


Entangled Particles

by cbjen



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2143443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cbjen/pseuds/cbjen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was just a girl at the bar, a friend of a friend. But Mar became so much more than that, a lifeline to the horrors and hopes of Earth during the end of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning of the End

**25 July 2186**

**9:15 AM PST**

**ANN North America, Vancouver, Canada, Earth**

_[Recipient: James Vega, Alliance Military]_

_[Sender: Marie Rai Mercier, Assistant Editor, Print News Division, Alliance News Network]_

_[Hey! Got your AKO address from Steve. This should get to you quickly … I already have security clearance through ANN. Anyway … last night was fun. If you ever want to hang while you're still stationed here, let me know.]_

Marie bit her lip, reading over the message one last time, and hit send. She felt a nervous jitter in her chest and tapped her fingers rapidly on the desk to compensate. God, she was shit at this. She stared at her empty inbox for fifteen more seconds before giving a frustrated sigh. She was being ridiculous. There were a lot more important things to worry about than her nonexistent dating life.

To start, Marie had a story on the treatment of Batarian refugees due in three hours, and she still needed to verify that C-Sec source. She was beginning to worry the officer did not exist at all. There was something off about his file in the public archives. Marie was a seasoned journalist, but she was still hitting a lot of dead ends on this story. It could very well be an angry Batarian yanking her around. Or it could be a concerned citizen just trying to get a legitimate story out. The details regarding illegal detainment of refugees seemed solid enough, and an old contact on the Citadel had confirmed most of her story. But the best quotes came from her unconfirmed C-Sec officer.

And then there was the bigger picture. There was the message from Claire.

_[Recipient: Marie Rai Mercier, Assistant Editor, Print News Division, Alliance News Network]_

_[Sender address: UNKNOWN]_

_[WARNING: ALLIANCE NEWS NETWORK DOES NOT RECOMMEND OPENING DARKNET MESSAGES WITHOUT EXPRESS PERMISSION FROM THE DEPARTMENT OF INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY. ALLIANCE NEWS NETWORK REMINDS EMPLOYEES TO VET ALL SOURCES CAREFULLY. CONTACT YOUR SUPERVISOR WITH QUESTIONS OR CALL THE DEPARTMENT OF INFORATION TECHNOLOGY AT EXTENSION 9019.]_

_[MESSAGE SENT FROM UNKNOWN SENDER VIA DARKNET CHANNELS FOLLOWS. MESSAGE SENT AT 6:31 P.M. PST FROM SOL SYSTEM.]_

_Hi Mare-Bear,_

_Look, I don't know if this message will even make it through to you. Especially since I'm sending it to your ANN address. I only now realize that I don't know your personal one. We're really good at being related, huh?_

_But, I feel like I should try and warn you. All that stuff they're saying – everything Commander Shepard's defense is saying about Reapers –_ _**it's true.** _ _There's stuff in the Archives, and I've befriended this asari up here named Dr. T'Soni. I've been working with her on some pretty big stuff. Look, it will take me too long to lay out all of the details.(And I could probably be thrown in the brig if this ever got discovered.) Just believe your little sister for once, okay?_

_The Reapers are coming. It could be tomorrow. It could be years from now._

_I'm not telling you so you can run a damn story. Just try and get an assignment off planet. Please. For me. Dr. T'Soni thinks they'll hit Earth first. And when they do, it will be the damn apocalypse, Marie. The Alliance and the Council just aren't ready._

_Please, do this for me, okay? I'll feel so much better when I know you're anywhere but Earth. And write back ASAP. Keep your message censored or use the darknet. If you go sending me messages to my AKO address about Reapers I will be so dishonorably discharged._

_Love you, big sis._

What the hell was Marie supposed to do with  _that_? She had researched everything she could about the Reapers and Dr. T'Soni. There was not much. As a journalist, she knew everything on the extranet regarding the galaxy's greatest threat was coming from one source: Shepard. And one source was never good enough. Of course, Claire would make source number two, if she had really found something on Mars.

It was a lot to process. Marie only sent back a text.

_[M: Got your message. WTF?]_

When there was no reply, she added one more. Messages to a military communications satellite might be delayed, after all.

_[M: I'll look into something off-planet, okay? Boss owes me a favor. There's a story I'm working on that might take me to the Citadel.]_

That was last night. When Claire had  _finally_ messaged back a simple smiley face, an annoyed and stressed-out Marie made for the local pub. An old friend of Claire's, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez, had invited her out for a drink. He was a nice enough guy, but going out was really a favor to her sister. Something had happened while Steve was deployed, although Claire never said what exactly. All Marie knew was that the attractive young soldier needed a friend, and Marie – shit as she was at being anyone's friend – thought it was worth a shot.

Last night, she decided against talking about her unusual message, so their conversation mostly revolved around a biotiball game on screen. They were just starting to talk about more serious things, like Steve's new assignment retrofitting an Alliance ship and Marie's recent promotion, when James Vega walked in. "Character" did not even begin to describe him. Marie would never normally go for someone so damn ostentatious. Maybe it was just her sister's end-of-days prophecy, but Marie found herself drawn to the burly marine. She had shyly asked Steve for his Alliance Knowledge Online address, and the bastard had looked quite smug as she left the pub.

The son of a bitch had set her up. She would have to get Steve back before heading to the Citadel. She knew a young reporter who had just broken up with his boyfriend. He was cute and very ballsy. They might make a good match.

Of course, Marie had not really intended to establish contact with Vega. She head just gotten his address for the hell of it, just a little too drunk to talk herself out of irrational impulses. But, here she was. Marie was waiting impatiently for a text like a damn fourteen-year-old girl.

She was just about to talk to her editor about a covered trip to the Citadel (and a deadline extension on that refugee piece) when her Omni-tool vibrated. There was a message in her SMS inbox.

_[J: I'm working late tonight. Sorry.]_

Ah, well. It had been worth a shot.  _Wait. Why is Vega only talking about tonight? That sounded like he meant–_

_[J: You work downtown, right? Maybe lunch tomorrow? I could use a meal away from the mess at H.Q.]_

_[J: Just to be clear: this isn't about a story right? Hate to think you were just into me for my credentials.]_

Marie found herself smiling widely. Hell, she did not even feel her normal pang of annoyance at his jab. (Nobody ever trusted her. Not completely. Not if they had any connections to anyone or anything that mattered.) The joyful expression was unusual for a sober Marie, especially this early in the morning. Her office mate, Norah, shot her a raised eyebrow from across her desk.

_[M: You got some juicy inside details on Batarian refugees over there, marine?]_

There was no response for five whole minutes, and Marie leaned back, puzzled. Then, everything clicked into place. The night before, James said something about being on a guard detail. Now talk about the Batarians had spooked him.

_Shit._ _  
_

_[M: That was a joke. Sorry. Just realized who you're probably guarding.]_

_[M: Lunch sounds great. Ever been to that little Mediterranean place a couple blocks from your building?]_

She fiddled mercilessly with an old receipt, tearing it to shreds when there was no response. Norah started snickering silently, apparently aware of what was going on. Marie surely looked just as hung over as she felt. And, as Norah knew, Marie seldom kept her hands or tongue to herself when an alcohol-fueled night was involved. Of course, she had been remarkably lady-like last night, but Norah had no way of knowing that.

_[M: No talk about Batarians. Pinky promise.]_

Marie watched her inbox for thirty seconds before sighing and shaking her head.  _Way to go, kid._ She stood up and headed for the door. She  _did_ in fact need to talk to her editor before his ten o'clock with the rest of the editorial board.

_[J: 12:30?]_

_Yes!_

_[M: See you there, soldier.]_

* * *

**25 July 2186**

**21:30 PST**

**Alliance Military Headquarters, Vancouver, Canada, Earth**

James shifted uncomfortably between his feet outside the door to Shepard's quarters. It was another quite night. He supposed he should be more alert, on the watch for a Batarian-sent assassin or an escape attempt from Shepard. But, Vega had been at this post for months, and both of those things now seemed very unlikely. A lesser man would be pissed off about how his talents were being wasted here, but James was not a lesser man.

He was, however, incredibly bored.

_[SMS Conversation: Marie Rai Mercier]_

_[J: So you figured out pretty quick who I work for. Should I be worried?]_

The girl from the bar last night was cute – hell, she was hot – although Esteban had been a bit pushy trying to get the two of them to talk together. She was the sister of Esteban's friend from basic training, but that was where the connections ended. A journalist was way outside of James's usual social circle. He had figured they would have absolutely nothing to talk about.

But, James tried anyway. She was beautiful, and she laughed more easily through the night with every refreshed drink. And she did know a lot about biotiball.  _And_ she believed Shepard was innocent. Hot and smart was a pretty solid combination.

With nothing better to do, James remembered Marie's wide smile and freckled, flat nose. When the lights had come on for last call, he realized she had the most amazing eyes. They were a vibrant, olive green with flecks of gold and a ring of deep brown around the edges. They danced when she laughed. And the tall, curvy journalist laughed a lot last night.

_[M: Maybe. It kind of clicked when you got all skittish about batarians. This isn't a business lunch, though. I swear.]_

_[J: Good. I'd hate to have to cancel on you.]_

_[M: I'd be disappointed myself. So … I thought you were working?]_

_[J: Yeah. You're probs gonna get me in trouble, Mar.]_

_Mar._  He liked that. Those eyes of hers were kind of like the Pacific at sunrise, on an almost overcast day. _  
_

_[M: Only fair. Pretty sure my boss will be beyond pissed if he finds out I'm having a not-business lunch with someone a degree of separation away from the infamous Commander Shepard.]_

_Infamous?_ James found himself grinding his teeth.

_[J: I thought you believed she wasn't a war criminal. This isn't an invitation for a story, but the press has her all wrong.]_

_[M: I know. And I do.]_

_[M: My sister … the one Steve knows … she's friends with a friend of Shepard's.]_

Oh. That was certainly interesting. What  _exactly_ did Mar know?

_[J: Who?]_

Shepard had been banned from communicating with the outside world. James was risking reassignment, but maybe he could help her get a message out.

_[M: Not sure I should say. Unsecure channel. Or … well … monitored channel, anyway.]_

James narrowed his eyes at that. Of course, it made sense. Everyone who had worked under Cerberus with Shepard had gone into hiding or was being held in Vancouver. Then again, it was odd that Mar would even mention it at all, if this friend of her sister's was really running from the Alliance.

So, it was then James's turn to connect the dots.  _Of course._ Last night, either Mar or Esteban had mentioned something about her sister being stationed at the Prothean Archives. A bad memory of Fehl Prime came rushing back – he could almost hear the voice of a certain Prothean expert over vidcomm right before the Collectors came bearing down – but James forced himself to type. _  
_

_[J: Liara T'Soni?]_

_[M: Thought I was the investigative reporter. Sounds like we have a lot of not-business to talk about over lunch.]_

_[M: Hey, I'm meeting up with some friends for dinner right now. g2g. Would be rude for me to keep talking to you.]_

_[M: Temping, though.]_

"Commander? What's got you all smiley?"

James snapped his head up to look at his partner, Lieutenant Kyle.  _Shit._ He was grinning like a damn idiot.

"Mind your own business, Kyle."

* * *

**26 July2186**

**12:25 PM PST**

**Vancouver, Canada, Earth**

_[SMS Conversation: James Vega]_

_[M: Sorry! Running late! My fucking editor … I'll be there by 12:45. Promise.]_

Marie bolted out the rotating door at the base of the Alliance News Network building. She should have been at the restaurant already, and Marie was feeling rather stupid.  _Way to go, scheduling a date right up against one of Eric's weekly briefings. Bastard never shuts up._ She walked at a clip down the block, happy that she had chosen flats for today. She had been strongly considering heels the night before. They would have made her ass look damn fine in her favorite coral pencil skirt. But, it turned out that laziness (and sleeping through three alarms) beat flirtation.  _And you wonder why you're still thirty and single._

Did it really matter, though? Vega was a marine. Just seeing a girl in a skirt had to be unusual for him. Or so Marie hoped.

Her Omni-tool vibrated three blocks from the restaurant. Marie furrowed her brow when the message hit her personal inbox. Not from James, then. Was he ignoring her? And what did Norah want?

_[SMS Conversation: Norah Cole]_

_[N: Get back ASAP.]_

Marie straightened and stopped at the light, even though the walk sign was illuminated.

_[M: What's going on? Kinda busy, remember?]_

_[N: Your hot date's gonna have to wait. There's been some kind of coordinated terrorist attack. London. Tokyo. Holy shit. NYC.]_

_[N: GET BACK HERE]_

_Shit. Sorry James._

Marie rounded to head back to the office when she heard the screaming. A shadow fell, engulfing the entire block, and Marie looked toward the sky with a slack jaw.

_No._

All her research and time on the Citadel, cutting her teeth as an internationally-renowned reporter after the "Geth Attack," could never have prepared Marie for the sheer size of an intact Reaper. What had Claire said? That it would be a "damn apocalypse?" The words seemed oddly unable to convey the absolute terror.

They were so totally fucked.

Something on the face of the behemoth creature –  _that_ , the very idea that these were single A.I. beings, was impossible to fathom – was moving. It's plates parted, and a red light glowed.

_Shit._

Marie bolted for the nearest door. It was a coffee shop. Hell, it was her favorite coffee shop. She wondered briefly if Andre was working as a deafening, high noise rent the air. There was a blinding flash of red light, and Marie was thrown forward into a display of coffee tumblers.

Her ears were ringing as she tried to stand back up. The internal screaming blocked out everything else, making the terrified shouts and explosions muffled and distant. There were shards of ceramic stuck in the palms of her hands where Marie had tried to brace herself, but she could barely feel them through the shock. She was more concerned with the hot wetness running down the side of her face and neck. She reached up to feel that the lower lobe of her ear was gone, replaced only by a steady stream of blood.

She was otherwise completely intact, though. Marie cursed herself for never taking that ANN first aid training as she looked around to the other patrons sprawled on the ground. She ran over to an older man lying face-first on the floor as another explosion shook the building. The air was thick with smoke and debris, and Marie found herself gasping for breath as she bent down to help the man up.

"Sir!"

She grabbed hold of his arm, but he was knocked out cold. She looked around desperately for help. The explosion had rendered most of the shop patrons unconscious, but a few were looking around in panic or confusion. A couple had broken through the shock, and they were helping the wounded around them.

Marie looked back down. She was on her own. And, upon that realization, she saw the pool of crimson, spilling out onto the dark wood floor beneath the man's face. A shard of glass was sticking out of his neck. Marie instinctively felt for a pulse, like they did in all the vids.

_Oh god. Oh god, no._

She reeled back with a sharp inhale, and someone's hands were at her shoulders. Marie tried to scream, but her throat had clamped shut.

"Marie! Miss Mercier!"

Rai Mercier. Why couldn't anyone ever get it right?

She turned. Andre the barista was there.  _Well, shit._ Marie had not realized that her favorite coffee maker knew who she really was.

"Marie! We need to get to the basement! We need to get away from those things!"

She nodded automatically, and Andre pulled her up by her forearm. Her hands were bleeding steadily now, but Marie still could not feel them. Andre pulled her roughly after him, using his free arm to wave widely to the others. There were only a handful of them standing. Was that all?  _Is everyone else–_

She did not let herself finish the thought. They were running through a narrow hall to an ancient-looking staircase. Hell, Marie had known this part of town was old, but the walls were made of  _brick._ The metal stairs were rusting through their chipped, beige paint.

"There are old steam tunnels down here," Andre said. Marie noticed he was carrying a gun.  _Where the hell–_ "They lead out to the CPRail tunnel. We can get out of the city that way."

"Good," Marie found herself saying. "The Reapers will target population centers. If we can get out of the city–"

"The what?"

They were pounding down the stairs now, the sound of desperate steps on metal echoing loudly in the narrow shaft. Still, Andre turned to look back at Marie with wide eyes.

"Reapers," she repeated with authority. "Those giant squid things. Sentient fucking A.I. hell-bent on wiping us out of existence."

"And here I was really hoping that was just a conspiracy theory," Andre laughed bitterly.


	2. Left Behind

**26 July 2186 ||** **19:30 GST ||** **Embassy Level, Presidium, Citadel**

"I hear you're staying on the Normandy."

James turned away from the view of the Presidium – it was disturbingly peaceful – and looked at Steve Cortez. The Normandy had only been away from Earth for a few hours, but Cortez looked like he had not slept for days. Given everything, maybe he had not. James got that. He got part of it, anyway. Losing your squad and losing your soul mate were hardly the same thing.

"Yeah," James said with a shrug. "You?"

"Yup. Somebody's gotta fly that Kodiak. Where the hell did you learn to drive, Vega?" Steve said. He tried to laugh, but it came out hollow and forced. It was not time to laugh. Not yet.

"Hey, it worked. Right?"

"Hah! You do know that the Kodiak has guns, right?"

James shrugged in an exaggerated fashion, causing Esteban to roll his eyes in a mocking way. "My way was faster," James said matter-of-factly.

They stood there in silence for a long time. James looked down at his Omni-tool. Of course, there were no replies to any of the messages he had sent.

_[Recipient: Emilio Vega, Alliance Military]_

_[Sender: James Vega, Alliance Military]_

_[You okay, tío?]_

_[Recipient: Joshua Sanders, San Diego, CA]_

_[Sender: James Vega, Alliance Military]_

_[Come on, asshole. You had better be alive.]_

_[Dad?]_

Then there was the message that had not gone through until they hit the Citadel. Communications must have been cut a few minutes before the attack started.

_[SMS Conversation: Marie Rai Mercier]_

_[J: Don't worry, Mar. Running late, too. Something's going on up here. May have to get a rain check.]_

James had not been able to send out the next message to her, left as a draft in his inbox.

_[J: You alive down there?]_

James did not know why he cared. He had yet to hear from his uncles. His cousins. His friends. His squad. His son of a bitch of a father. What should some woman he had only met once, in a dingy pub on the bay, matter?

He rewrote the message. It would probably never get to her. She was probably dead, based on the few reports coming in. But, if she was alive, Marie had a right to know.

_[Recipient: Marie Rai Mercier, Assistant Editor, Print News Division, Alliance News Network]_

_[Sender: James Vega, Alliance Military]_

_Hello Mar,_

_We went to the archives on Mars. After. The Protheans had plans for a weapon. Dr. T'Soni was there. We might be able to take down the sons of bitches after all._

_Mar, I should not be the one to tell you this. But, with everything going on, I am probably the only one who can. Well, me and Steve. He's alive, by the way. We're on the Citadel._

_But, Cerberus was at the Archives. They killed all of the researchers._

_I am so sorry._

_I hope you're alive_ _.You still owe me lunch._

_Hoping you're alive and safe and still very beautiful,_

_James Vega_

"You hear from your family?" Steve asked, eyeing James's Omni-tool without trying to read the message.

James shook his head and put his 'tool in standby mode. "You?"

Steve shook his head as well. People milled about behind them on the embassy level, as sky cars flew above the canal. Earth seemed like a far away nightmare, a fever dream from weeks ago. James tried to stop himself from imagining all the horrors on Earth, but it was an impossible endeavor. And while he knew staying with Shepard was the right decision, not going back to fight  _hurt._ But, what they were doing here – rallying the fleets – it was the only chance anyone alive back home had.

* * *

**26 July 2186 ||** **2:30 PM PST ||** **CPRail Tunnel, Vancouver, Canada, Earth**

The tunnels were packed with survivors. The crowd was oppressive, making the air too hot and hard to breathe. Marie was taking deliberate, deep breaths in an attempt to not pass out. And yet, she found herself praying that the few poor refugees in this hell hole were not the only ones left. There had to be more. Surely the Alliance had helped get as many people as possible to safety. Surely they had a plan for this.

There was an empty feeling in her stomach, though, that Marie could not ignore. Those Alliance bastards sure as hell had done everything in their power to discredit Shepard. After the Citadel. After Aratoht. What if that disbelief really went all the way to the top of military command?

_Well, then we're fucked._

Marie was not well versed in war, but she was no idiot, either. They would never win against the Reapers in a ground war. They would never win without a plan.

"Let me see your hands."

Andre held out an open bottle of water. They had been separated from the rest of the survivors in the coffee shop, but Andre had kept tight hold of Marie's arm the entire afternoon. Hell, Marie would probably have finger-shaped bruises from his painfully constant grip.

She did not particularly care.

Marie held out her palms, wincing as the flexing of her fingers trained against the ceramic still embedded in her hands. They had already patched up her ear as best they could, with strips Andre had torn out of his formerly pristine white t-shirt. Her newfound friend began pulling shards of coffee mug out of her hands.

The shock was gone, and the pain was searing. Marie bit down on the inside of her lip, drawing blood, to keep from screaming out. The still-cold water he poured over the wounds did not help. It stung before numbing the pain, bring tears to her eyes as Andre muttered his apologies.

"You're okay," she said through gritted teeth. Then, Marie thought to add a heartfelt, "Thank you."

He nodded and carefully bandaged her hands, shaking his head absentmindedly every time a lock of curly chestnut hair fell into his eyes. Even now, amid the chaos of genocide, Marie was aware of how attractive he was.

Marie had asked him out, once. It was years ago, now, when she was first hired by ANN. She had just moved to Vancouver. She knew no one, and she figured the hot barista was worth a shot.

It turned out her gaydar was poorly turned, but Andre had let Marie down gently. They had always been friendly after that, building up a rapport over the years. But, Marie had never thought to ask Andre out for a friendly drink or some other excursion outside the coffee shop. Now, she wished she had. The chance would probably never present itself again.

_No. Don't think like that._

At least he was here. At least she had somebody among the press of panicked bodies.

"There," Andre said, holding her hands with mercifully gentle grace. He held out the water bottle to her, but Marie shook her head. It was probably a bad call, but she suspected she would vomit up anything she attempted to swallow right now.

There was a child crying to her left. Marie looked over to see a little girl in a blue dress, surely no older than eight, with tears streaming down her face. There was no one helping her.

"Where are your parents?" Marie asked, looking around frantically.

The girl only shook her head and cried harder. Andre carefully released Marie's hands and shifted over to the little girl. He brought her into a wordless hug, and Marie remembered him once talking about a little sister. She had just started high school.

_Claire._ Was Claire safe, up on Mars? Surely the Reapers were ignoring the planet for now. They had to be. It was almost entirely populated by scientists and their families, leaving it a mostly barren wasteland of red sand. Was Claire just getting word now of Earth? Was she watching some news broadcast in horror, wondering what had happened to her older sister?

Were their parents safe, on Tiptree? The Reapers would save the back-end of nowhere for a later date. They had to.

And what about everyone at ANN? Norah? Her editor, Alex? Even that motherfucker Eric? Were they risking their lives now to report on the destruction, to get word out to other cities and the council races? To plea for help? Or were they–

_No._

Marie instinctively checked her Omni-tool with bandaged fingers. Of course communications were down. The Reapers had surely destroyed every single satellite, tower, and communications buoy they could. The last messages glowed at Marie painfully in their bright orange font at the top of her inbox.

She saw her failed message to James. Would he and his Alliance soldiers be able to deliver them from the end of the world?

Andre's hand was on Marie's bicep. "We need to get out of here. We're going to get crushed to death," he said.

Andre was cradling the little girl in his arms. She had buried her face in his chest, so all Marie could see was the orange glint of many illuminated Omni-tools off her white-blonde hair.

Marie nodded and wove her fingers through Andre's. "You know which way gets us out of here?"

He nodded in kind and started to lead, calling over his shoulder, "When I was a kid, we used to sneak down here and play flashlight tag. When I was older, this was my favorite place to smoke."

Marie almost laughed at that. Hiding drugs from your parents seemed so quaint now.

They made their way through the throng. One moment the cries of grief and confusion would be deafening. In the next, there was only stunned silence. Marie focused on the pain in her hands and at her ear. It was far easier than listening to the conversations they passed, choked out in sorrow. It was definitely easier than thinking about friends and family.

Eventually, Andre veered off down a side tunnel. There was almost no one down the path ahead. Andre muttered something about a shortcut and they pressed on, until the cries of the main tunnel mercifully died away.

"We need to rest," Andre said. He carefully extracted the little girl and set her down. "Priya, this is Marie," he said with a gesture. His voice was kind and strong, far better than anything Marie could hope to choke out.

She felt a lump in her throat and held out a bandaged hand. "Nice to meet you, Priya."

They shook hands, and Marie sat down with a total lack of grace. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and she was exhausted. She noticed Andre checking his gun with a practiced confidence, although Marie had little idea what exactly he was looking for. She had never held a firearm. Hell, she had only seen a gun up close a handful of times. She sure as hell had never fired one.

Things would be going  _right_  if that changed soon. It would mean she lived long enough to fight.

"Why does a barista have a gun?" Marie asked.

"Why does a journalist known for her stories on social justice know what the hell those ships are?" Andre shot back.

Marie could not help herself. "You follow my work?"

"I got curious," Andre said. "I wondered how a girl oblivious enough to ask  _me_ out could make it out of J-school. Turns out you're a much better writer than you are a flirt."

She smirked. It felt unnatural to smile, though, so she quickly stopped. But, there was still a note of humor in her voice as Marie said, "And here I was hoping you didn't remember that."

"You kept coming to my coffee shop," he said, just barely laughing. "You fell flat on your face and just came back the next day, like all was well. You had balls."

"You made good coffee."

"Damn straight," he said with a smile. It did not quite reach his eyes. Those kinds of smiles may never be seen again among humanity. But, it was something. "And you didn't answer my question."

"You first."

"My dad's paranoid," he said with a shrug. "Grew up in a bad part of town, down in the States. New York. He wanted me to know how to use it when I started opening and closing on my own. – Hey, um, you got family here? In the city?"

Marie shook her head. "I'm a colony kid. Family's a long way away from here. I know your dad – well –"

"I got your flowers," Andre said with a small, sad smile. "I'm sorry I never really said thank you. It was just hard, you know? My mom – my parent's split when I was a kid – she's up on the Citadel. Works for Udina."

"Seriously?" Marie asked with wide eyes. "Well, I really am a shitty journalist. Could've turned you into a source a long time ago."

He laughed at that. It was almost genuine.

"Seriously, though," Marie continued. "I'm sticking with you. You might be able to get us off this rock."

"Ah, I see how it is," Andre said, his tone remaining light. "You just want me for my connections."

"I want you for your gun," she said frankly. Then, Marie reached out to touch the back of his hand lightly with her finger tips, and her voice softened. "I want you for your incredible altruism. Your bravery. You could have bolted without us. Probably would have been smarter."

He took her hand, watching Priya warily. The child was observing their conversation with wide eyes and a wordless, slightly open mouth. Neither of them knew what to possibly say to her.

So, Andre turned back to his original question. "So, those ships – Reapers? How the hell do you know what's going on here?"

"They're not ships. They're A.I.s," Marie said, getting two highly raised eyebrows in response. "I've got a sister at the Prothean Archives. She was researching what the Protheans knew about the Reapers. At least, I think that's what she was doing."

"And what did the Protheans know?"

Marie sighed and shook her head. "I have no idea. Claire – my sister – she got a message to me on the darknet two days ago. Told me to leave Earth."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah. She said they might come years from now. Or they might come tomorrow." – Marie's voice broke, and she pushed away the emotion angrily. Now was not the time to have a breakdown. – "I worry that the Alliance was banking on a few years."

"Is that why the hit here first? To get–"

Marie held out her free hand to cut him off. The sudden anger in Andre's voice was misplaced.

"They didn't hit Vancouver first. My friend Norah – she works at ANN with me – she texted me right before. We were already getting in reports from London, New York, and Tokyo. They're just hitting every major city that they can."

"This isn't a war," Andre said in a low voice. "It's an annihilation."

"That's kind of what they do," Marie said quietly. "We should get move–"

There was a sudden screaming from the main tunnel. Marie snapped her head up at the sound of gunfire. She leaned out from the alcove they had tucked into and saw people running frantically away from the entrance. What were they running from? The Reapers surely couldn't come down here. Was someone  _already_ taking advantage of the situation and terrorizing their fellow humans? Was there an explosion? Or –

_Son of a bitch._

"Go!" Marie shouted, giving a backwards glance to a creature she could only describe as a monster.

Andre must have seen something definitive in her expression, because he scooped up Priya in one swift move and motioned Marie in front of him. "Next left!" he yelled, firing behind him. The high pitched sound of the shot echoed with force in the narrow tunnel. "What the fuck are those things?"

Marie almost slammed into the wall as they ran to a tunnel on the left. It was exceedingly narrow, barely wide enough for a full grown adult to move through without turning sideways. Marie threw a look over her shoulder as they ran between disused pipes, and she saw that the armored monstrosity was unable to fit through the gap. It fired at them from the tunnel entrance instead, and the sound of bullets hitting brick or iron drowned out the reverberating screams of terror.

They bolted through the tunnels, rough brick and sharp metal leaving deep scratches against Marie's arms and legs. She vaulted over a low pipe and lost a shoe. She kept running. They had to keep running, even though there was a very illogical and stupidly brave part of Marie that wanted to run back toward the sound of screams.

There was nothing they could do now but move forward.

The sudden feeling of cool, fresh air an hour later slammed into Marie with a shock. Marie recovered quickly and ran toward it, where there was a locked iron grate between them and the outside world.

"Get behind me," Andre said. Marie obliged, and the barista shot through the lock on his second try.

They exited and looked around, Andre with his gun raised and Priya still in his arms. Marie suddenly felt very helpless as she hugged herself. The trio had emerged on the edge of the city, where rows of project housing gave way to an empty field of tall brown grass. Behind them, the world was burning. But, ahead, all was quiet.

_Holy shit. We made it._

"Can you walk?" Andre said.

Marie turned to see that he was talking to Priya. The little girl nodded, and he set her gingerly down. Andre steadied the gun in front of him with both hands and began to wearily do a sweep of the surroundings again. Marie extended her broken hand to the girl.

The child had not spoken a word to Marie. But, she said quietly now, "I've seen you. On the vids."

Marie gave a little snort. She was occasionally asked to cover one mediocre story or another, although her heart was never really in camera work. She took a low paying job in the archaically-named "print" division for a reason.

"I'm a journalist," Marie said simply. "If we can find a working comm tower, I should be able to use that to get you somewhere safe."

"Between the two of us, we'll figure it out," Andre said over his shoulder. "It's all clear. I think we should try to get as far from the city as we can. Once we're a bit further out, we can look for supplies."

Marie nodded, and they headed off into the discomforting quiet of the hot afternoon.


	3. Homeworld Burning

**27 July 2186 || 1:30 AM PST || Somewhere outside Vancouver, Canada, Earth**

Someone was shaking her awake. Marie groaned, rolling over to grab at the pillow she always kept vertically at her side. There was nothing but hard earth, and the unfamiliar feeling jarred Marie awake. She bolted upright, looking around frantically as Andre's hands remained planted on her shoulders.

Then she remembered, and it took all of her energy not to throw up at the shock of it.

"Marie!" Andre whispered urgently. "There's someone across the field. I think they're Alliance."

She looked across the park. The outlines of football goals at the other end seemed distinctly out of place. The night was illuminated only by the burning city behind them, reflecting eerily off a smoke-filled sky. In the brightness of the night, Marie could indeed make out a battalion in Alliance-issue armor only twenty meters away, over by the football pitch.

"Or they could be mercs in stolen Alliance gear," Marie whispered darkly.

"You really think people would turn on each other like that?  _Now?_ "

"You don't?" she shot back. "Look, this isn't the first war I've covered. I was at the Citadel after the attack three years ago. I was in the Congo just last year covering the riots. This is exactly when people turn on each other. Wait–"

She wanted to pull up the camera mode on her Omni-tool for a closer look, but the orange glow would be a dangerous give away if she was wrong. As a floodlight fell across his face, Marie would have sworn that she recognized one of the figures, an older man in a dress uniform, from the vids of Shepard's "trial." And if even if she was wrong on that count, if the men and women across the field were mercenaries, why would one of them have stolen a dress uniform?

"See that old man? I think that's Admiral Anderson," she whispered.

Marie and Andre shared a look. He was far more trusting than she was, but he also understood that standing to talk to the soldiers was a risk. And they were not just risking their own lives. Priya was still with them, crouched low in the grass and watching with wide eyes.

"Even if they are mercs, maybe we can run with them," Andre said. "I haven't got another thermal clip. If we run into any more of those  _things_ –"

Marie nodded. He was right. There was no way they would survive the week without help.  _God, please don't let me be doing a big thing badly._ The two of them stood. Marie put up her hands in a surrendering position, while Andre picked up Priya. Whoever they were, hopefully they would take pity on a child. Hopefully they would not do the exact opposite.

Immediately, Marie heard the sound of safeties clicking off. There were four soldiers with their guns drawn on the trio. She felt her heart leap into her chest and prayed. Marie had not prayed since she was a small child, but she prayed now to whatever gods might be out there after all.

"Identify yourselves!"

The soldier did not shout. He called out quietly across the park, his voice forceful but fearful, too. The caution lent credibility to their uniforms. Untrained mercenaries would have shouted, monsters and Alliance forces be damned. She had seen that kind of arrogance be the downfall of more than one self-appointed warlord.

"Marie Rai Mercier, ANN!" she quietly called back. "This is Andre Jones and Priya. He's armed. Single pistol."

She looked over and had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Andre was holding the damn gun in his hand.  _Yes, let's point a gun at a bunch of heavily armed soldiers. That can only end well._

"Are you injured?" someone called back.

Marie started to answer in the negative, but Andre called back, "Marie needs minor medical attention. She has a bad cut that needs a good application of Medi-gel."

She was tempted to tell him off.  _That_ was hardly a severe enough injury to warrant discussion right now. Of course, she really did need that Medi-gel. The place where half her ear had been sheared off was screaming, and an infection could kill her just as easily (actually, with a lot more pain and suffering) than a Reaper.

"Get behind the line!" a low voice called out. "Friendlies! Hold fire!"

Marie recognized that voice. It was definitely one of the Admirals who had spoken in Shepard's defense. She shared a look with Andre, who shrugged. What else could they do? The two of them walked quickly over to where the battalion had overturned some benches to create rudimentary cover. The soldiers helped them climb over, and a field medic was immediately fussing over Priya.

"Get the kid some water, STAT," she said. "Let me see that cut."

Marie gestured to the side of her face, and the medic started to pull back their improvised bandages.  _God, Andre must look strange, walking around without a shirt._ Marie had to fight not to scream out as the medic worked. The copious amounts of blood had dried, and pulling away at the bandages tore painfully at the wound.

"This might sting a bit," the medic said. He grabbed Marie's had and placed it to her mouth. She understood and bit down on the inside of her palm, at one of the few spots where her hands were not heavily bandaged in torn t-shirt. The antiseptic did not sting. It  _burned._ She bit down and tasted blood before the Medi-gel was applied, and its local anesthetic numbed the pain away completely. "Good job. Now, let's look at those hands."

When she was patched up, Marie sat in silence with Andre and Priya. She wrapped her arm through Andre's and rested her head on his shoulder. When he did not complain, she held on tightly and fought back the inescapable urge to cry. The night was quiet, punctuated only by the sound of a couple of engineers trying to work on some quantum communication equipment. There were another twenty refugees in the makeshift camp, but they all looked on with the same expression of shocked, dumfounded silence.

"You're a reporter?"

Marie snapped her head up to see Admiral Anderson towering over her. When she nodded, he crouched down in the grass beside her. Marie wondered if she looked as worn out as the old soldier. She certainly felt even worse.

"You got a mobile QEC?"

She shook her head, disappointment creeping in to meld with every other horrible emotion. It was common practice, in the field, for ANN reporters to carry mobile QECs. Marie even had one. It was sitting on her desk.

"I should have thought," she said quietly. "I should have been prepared."

The old man rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You couldn't have been–"

"Sir," she said, more confident now. "I knew the Reapers were coming. I believed Shepard, and–"  _Oh, hell. What does it matter now?_ "And I have a sister that works at the Prothean Archives. She told me to get off planet. I should have been prepared. I should have brought my QEC with me out of the office. I'm sorry."

"Don't blame yourself, kid," he reassured her. "Our QEC is functional, but we're having trouble reaching any Alliance channels. Looks like the Reapers are actively blocking our signals. Think you can try some ANN access codes?"

_Oh, thank you. Maybe I can actually be useful._

Marie started standing as she nodded, and Anderson removed his hand. She glanced backward at Andre, who gave her a small, reassuring smile as she walked toward the engineers. Marie dimmed her Omni-tool and crouched behind the barrier blocking the engineers from view of the field. She felt the bile rise in her throat as she looked at the screen. The SMS application was still running in the foreground.

_[N: Your hot date's gonna have to wait. There's been some kind of coordinated terrorist attack. London. Tokyo. Holy shit. NYC.]_

_[N: GET BACK HERE]_

She closed the window angrily and pulled up her ANN application. There was a news alert on the front page. It must have made it out just before communications went down.

_[RED ALERT. ALL STAFF REPORT STATUS ASAP. EARTH UNDER ATTACK BY UNKNOWN FORCES. PLANETWIDE EVACUATION ORDER IN PLACE.]_

Unknown forces. What a load of shit. She closed the alert forcefully, earning a sideways glance of concern from one of the engineers, and found the access code application.

"I'm forwarding you the codes now. Hopefully we can get through to someone."

They ran through the ANN Earth offices first. There was no response. The servers had all gone dark.  _No. They can't have hit everyone. Not that quickly. Even the smaller outposts–_

The knot forming in Marie's stomach was interrupted by a light ping. Shit. She had forgotten to mute the damn thing.

_[ACKNOWLEDGED. ASSISTANT EDITOR MARIE RAI MERCIER, PRINT NEWS DIVISION. EMPLOYEE ID 13220916. STAND BY.]_

_[UPLINK TO CITADEL HQ QEC NETWORK COMPLETE. EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS IN PLACE. STAND BY.]_

_Holy shit. It was working._ A small hologram of a young woman appeared, emanating from the Alliance's gear. "Miss Rai Mercier, what's your status?"

"I'm embedded with Alliance forces, but I can report in later," Marie said. "Military communications are being blocked. Admiral Anderson needs to get in touch with Alliance command. Can you connect him?"

The young woman's tired eyes widened. God, she was probably just a summer intern, thrown into the chaos of a war. Now she was connecting a damn admiral on the ground, becoming an active participant.

"Doing it now," the girl said. "I'm putting your status as 'embedded.' Report in when possible to give a fuller account."

"Copy," Marie said, liking the feeling of the word on her tongue. It felt professional. She had done this before. She had reported from the middle of a gunfight. Granted, there had just been the  _one_ gunfight, and it had lasted all of five minutes. But, the professional facade still helped to calm her.

The image of a scared young kid was replaced by a gaunt old man, in a dress uniform with an Admiral's bars on the shoulders. Marie looked up to Anderson, and he nodded with an appreciative smile. She fought the overwhelming urge to check on her family and stood up, powering down her Omni-tool. The Admiral owed her a favor. She could try and get in touch with Claire and her parents when the time was right. For now, Marie headed back over to where Andre was singing some French lullaby to Priya, curled against his bare chest.

* * *

**28 July 2186 || 14:45 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

Palaven was burning.

James did another angry pull up in the shuttle bay as the Normandy flew, once again, away from the fight. They had a Primarch on board now, and the crew was making their way toward some summit. James tried desperately to remember why he was on this mission, but it was hard. Being in the action on Menae felt right. Pacing in a cold metal box, heading toward a rendezvous point so some damn politicians could meet around a fucking conference table felt decidedly wrong.

Cortez walked over and leaned against a cargo container. Nobody on the ship had slept much, if at all, since Earth. But, Steve still looked particularly bad.

"We're headed for Eden Prime," he said. "Something about Cerberus and the Protheans."

_What the hell are those pendejos up to?_

James shook his head and kept exercising. "Yeah, whatever."

He was startled seconds later by a ping on his Omni-tool. He got down and stared at his arm in surprise, without even bringing the message up. Cortez gave James an appraising look before walking back over to the procurement console with a stiff wave.

It could be nothing. It could just be someone else on the ship. Or someone on Earth might have gotten access to Alliance communications. James took a bracing breath and pulled up his inbox.

_[Recipient: James Vega, Alliance Military]_

_[Sender: Marie Rai Mercier, Alliance Military]_

_[Subject: Alive]_

_Hello James,_

_So, the world ends and you send me a message, huh? I must have made an impression._

_I'm glad you and Steve are okay. I'm here with someone who says he knows your crew, Admiral Anderson. He's leading resistance forces. A friend of mine has already joined up. They're calling themselves the 1st Battalion. My friend, Andre, helped me get out of the city. I think you'd like him. When this is all over, we'll get a beer together._

_The fucked up thing is, even in the middle of an apocalypse, I'm working. Hell, I just got a major promotion to editor of the North American war correspondents division. Anderson wasn't going to go for me being embedded with the First of the First, but I can be very convincing._

_And I might have name dropped. Sorry._

_We need people to see what's going on down here, though, so I'm staying. Maybe if these fuckers on the Council see people dying by the millions, they'll grow a pair._

_Sorry if that's really harsh. But, it's true. It's bad down here. Really fucking bad. You tell that commander of yours to hurry it the fuck up._

_And keep an eye out. You may see me on the vids. Don't panic if you notice I'm missing half an ear. I'm fine. I promise._

_Good luck,_

_Mar_

There was another message that came in while he was reading.

_[Recipient: James Vega, Alliance Military]_

_[Sender: Marie Rai Mercier, Alliance Military]_

_[Subject: Sorry]_

_I just realized I didn't thank you. For telling me about Claire. I already knew from Alliance intelligence, but I'm still processing. It's raw, you know?_

_I still really appreciate you telling me. If you see any Cerberus bastards while you're out fighting Reapers, make them hurt. For me._

_Hoping you're okay,_

_Mar_

James smiled at her use of the nickname, and the same smile became a wide grin. She was alive. She was alive, and she was with Anderson. At least something was going right.

* * *

**28 July 2186 || 22:00 PST || First Battalion Outpost, Outside Vancouver, Canada, Earth**

_[SMS Conversation: James Vega]_

_[M: Wanna know what's great about my new gig? I can text soldiers embedded on the Normandy whenever I want, because it technically counts as work. I could just be prying you for information.]_

Marie smirked as looked down at her message. Hopefully James would realize that she was not  _actually_ using him for his information. Mostly. There was not a whole lot of teasing going on in person around the camp, but she figured a soldier away from the hellscape Earth had become could handle it. She hoped he could. She needed someone to joke around with right now.

"Hey, Mercier!"

_Rai Mercier. Mom and Dad just couldn't add the damn hyphen and make things easy._

Marie stuck her head out the tent and looked up toward the private marching over toward her. "What's up?"

"There's another ANN guy here. Looks pretty shell shocked, but I thought you'd want to talk to him."

Marie gave a casual two-fingered salute and a genuine smile. "Thanks. Can you lead me over to him?"

She got up, glancing backward at Andre and Priya. Priya was asleep, curled up with her head on Andre's lap. He was reading a copy of the Odyssey by the light of his Omni-tool.  _Of all the things–_

"See if you can grab some water while you're up," he said. "They ran out of the potable stuff before we got our whole ration earlier."

Marie nodded and followed the private out the tent. "We're still working on the water," he told her. "There's a stream nearby, but we don't have the proper gear to filter it. They're having to boil it the old fashioned way."

Marie almost laughed as she remembered a story she had published on this very watershed, when she first arrived in Vancouver. There had been a chemical spill, contaminating the Fraser River. Nobody seemed to give a damn, except for the few people who got their drinking water from the tap instead of the bottle. Trying to deal with public relations people from the chemical company and government workers had been a damn nightmare.

In the end, it  _had_ been cleaned up, and the company got off with a ridiculously low fine. Marie was still not too keen on drinking the water.

She made a note of the water situation on her Omni-tool. It would surely add color to the piece she was writing about the state of the refugee camp. Citadel H.Q. wanted details on troop movements and Reaper forces, but the human side of the story was what Marie wanted to report on. People needed to see what was going on. They needed to see the piles of bodies, burning on the side of the road so that the Reapers could not turn them into those  _things._ They needed to see the orphaned children and people dying in makeshift medical tents. They needed to see the schoolteachers and baristas taking up arms.

"Over here," the private said, snapping Marie out of her reverie. "He's not talking much, but he's still wearing an ANN badge."

Marie looked at the young man in front of her. God, he could not be older than twenty two. He had a shock of blonde, curly hair and a large gash down one side of his face. He was still wearing a pink dress shirt and grey slacks, although they were stained with blood. He had a damn camera cradled under one arm. Marie squatted down in the grass next to him.

_Daniel Granger._

She looked up from his badge to his downcast eyes. He would not meet her gaze. "Danny? I'm Marie. I work with ANN, too. We've made contact with Citadel H.Q., if you want to try and–"

"Everyone's gone," he said in a hollow voice. "I was in my office, and there was an explosion–"

"More people are checking in every hour," Marie tried to reassure him. No one from Vancouver had checked in, but there were a few old contacts from London and Mexico City who had made it. If this kid had survived, surely there were more like him.

"My sister," he said in a hoarse voice. "Hannah Granger. She worked –  _works_ on News Night as an associate producer."

"I'll see what I can find," Marie said, holding out her hand. "Can I take your badge? I'll check in for you."

He froze for a moment before pulling the lanyard through his tangle of hair. Marie nodded and tried to smile, although she doubted the gesture looked particularly comforting. She stood and pulled up her Omni-tool. As long as she remained in range of the mobile QEC, she could get a secure connection.

_[ACKNOWLEDGED. ASSOCIATE PRODUCER DANIEL GRANGER, VIDEO NEWS DIVISION. EMPLOYEE ID 15320922. STAND BY.]_

_[EMPLOYEE NUMBER 15320922 REASSIGNED TO COMMAND OF MARIE RAI MERCIER, EDITOR, NORTH AMERICAN WAR CORRESPONDENTS.]_

Well, that was fast. The kid was in no shape to work, but Marie still pulled up his personnel file. He graduated from the Columbia J-school with honors and was working as a main video contributor on ANN's well-respected policy blog. Good. He could use that camera, and Marie suspected ANN would want one of them in front of it. Even now, she was hoping they would choose him. But they needed to get that high definition footage out on screens across the galaxy, no matter who was doing the voiceover.

Marie then remembered that she had promised to look for Daniel's sister, but the ANN roster of checked-in staff had no matches for a Hannah Granger.  _Damn._ She was walking over to tell him when a message hit her inbox.

_[SMS Conversation: James Vega]_

_[J: Abuse of power much?]_

_[J: Also, I really can't tell you anything that happens here.]_

Marie looked over at Daniel. A medic was fussing over him, and it looked like he might have passed out. The bad news (or, at least, the lack of news) could wait.

_[M: I know Diane Allers is already embedded on your ship. And I have the same level of security clearance.]_

_[J: I'm supposed to just take your word on that? And how did you know about Allers?]_

_[M: She used to be roommates with a coworker. We've gotten drinks a couple of times. When she saw I was alive, she messaged me. You can trust her, by the way. She's a straight shooter.]_

_[M: And, yes. I happen to be exceptionally trustworthy.]_

_[M: And humble.]_

_[J: Using all this data to chat is going to get me in trouble, Mar.]_

_[M: So tell me something useful.]_

_[J: Killed some Cerberus bastards for you.]_

Marie felt the bile rising to the back of the throat. She should not be so god damn happy to hear that people were killed. Marie had always been exceptionally level headed, grounded in remembering that the enemy were people, too. They had lives, families, and motivations. But, after Claire, reason had taken a back seat to blind rage.

_[M: 'At a boy. What happened?]_

_[J: They invaded Eden Prime. Were looking for a Prothean artifact. That's all I can say.]_

_[M: What the hell is it with Cerberus and the Protheans? What are they up to?]_

_[J: Question of the week. Looks like we set them back a lot, though.]_

_[M: Good. Any other news from the front?]_

_[J: Shit, you're the one on the front lines. What's it like there? We're not getting very reliable reports.]_

_[M: Trying to change that. Should be able to get some vid out soon.]_

_[J: You're avoiding my question.]_

_[M: It's bad. Haven't been back in the city, but even out in the suburbs … those husks and other Reaper zombies are all over the damn place. We're not finding nearly as many refugees as I'd hoped.]_

_[J: You know anything about how the fighting's going?]_

_[M: I'm not a military expert. Right now they're trying to secure a perimeter around a refugee camp and do runs into the city to look for survivors and supplies. At least most of the soldiers are coming back.]_

_[J: Sounds pretty good, actually.]_

_[M: This Anderson guy's the real deal.]_

_[J: Yeah, he's a good leader. Tell him I said hi.]_

_[M: Roger that. Tell your commander to stop fucking around with Cerberus and kick some Reaper ass.]_

_[J: That's the plan. Hopefully we can get more troops to Earth soon.]_

_[M: Good. I don't know how much longer our luck will hold. The Reapers keep manufacturing fucking ground troops, after all.]_

There was a long pause in the messages, and Marie checked to make sure her connection was solid. Everything looked okay on her end. But, Daniel was coming to, so Marie started to walk over as her Omni-tool pinged again.

_[J: Are you okay?]_

_[M: As I can be. You?]_

_[J: Wishing I was down on Earth.]_

Marie looked around. Her world was a makeshift mess of tents and crying refugees. Gunfire could be heard in the distance, and she could see the Vancouver skyline burning against the night under a continued Reaper onslaught.

_[M: No, you don't. And what you're doing is important. Get us help. That's an order, marine.]_

_[J: Yes, ma'am. I have to go. Shepard wants me to help train some green lab techs. Never even been on a damn ship before. Just be safe, okay?]_

_[M: I'll try. You, too. Goodnight.]_


	4. Husks and Humanity

**30 July 2186 || 06:00 PST || First Battalion Outpost, Vancouver, Canada, Earth**

_[J: Tell me you're actually online.]_

Marie broke into a big smile at his message. God, it was so stupid to be so happy about talking to a guy. But, these little written dalliances with James were one of the only pieces of her life keeping Marie sane. Where Andre and Danny moped about, shooting her dirty looks every time she tried to engage in some front line banter, James humored her. Hell, he teed her up.

_[M: Everything okay?]_

_[J: Yeah. Peachy. Just leaving Grissom Academy. We took down some more Cerberus pendejos for you.]_

_[M: The fuck was Cerberus doing at Grissom!?]_

_[M: The fuck are the up to, period?]_

_[M: And, thanks. You know, for the murder.]_

Oh man, this war was really messing with her sense of humor. And, she had been pretty macabre to begin with. Rereading that last message, Marie realized what an insensitive asshole Andre and Danny must think she was.

_[J: Ha! You're welcome. And who knows about their bigger plans, but they wanted the biotics there for something.]_

Cerberus was building an army. There was no way that was good. Marie paused, unable to think of anything useful to say. She watched Priya kick a football back to an older boy, another refugee whose name escaped Marie, a few feet away. Neither child had been able to sleep, so they were playing as a red sun rose over the clearing. The First Battalion of the resistance had made camp in a heavily wooded park on the bay, placing a few military-issue tents within a small clearing that had good sight lines. (Or so she heard the admiral say.) Those tents were reserved for officers, equipment, and supplies. Everyone else was sleeping outside, and Marie was grateful the war had hit in the summer. Sure, it was going to be another brutally hot day, but it was better than freezing to death in a Canadian winter.

The scent of pine was strong, carried on the humid air. Marie took a deep inhale and tried not to think too much about the distant sound of Reaper lasers across the water. She tried to remember the boy's name or where he had come from, instead. There were not many refugees at the current battalion outpost. Most civilians unwilling or unable to fight had been relocated to a camp near Montreal. Of course, Priya had screamed bloody murder when they tried to load her on one of the refugee shuttles. For better or worse, Andre and Marie were her dysfunctional family now. There was no way to say for certain where Priya would be safer, anyway, so Anderson had allowed the little girl to stay.

In the end, Marie could not remember the boy's name or who he belonged to. Maybe he was like Priya, unwilling to part with the one person he had left in the world. Maybe he was the son of a resistance fighter or an adrift, terrified orphan. Whatever his reason for being so close to danger, Marie found herself selfishly grateful. It was good for Priya to have someone near her age to play with.

_[J: So … favorite food. Go.]_

Marie laughed quietly, although her chuckle was still loud enough (or perhaps just out of place enough) to earn a sideways glance from a nearby marine cleaning his gun. She mouthed a silent "sorry" and turned to the message. Marie and James had been playing this game of questions whenever they had a spare moment, but it still seemed patently ridiculous.

_[M: My grandmother's samosas. You?]_

_[J: My abuela's juevos rancheros. Don't think I've ever had samosas before.]_

_[M: WHAT? Oh man, when all this is over, I'll have to make some for you.]_

_[J: Sounds like a date.]_

_[M: You do still owe me one.]_

_[M: Okay, my turn. Why'd you join the military?]_

_[J: It was a way for me to escape some bad stuff at home. Why'd you become a journalist?]_

Whoa. That was a story she would need to get more of another time, but it was too early to push him on it.

_[M: My parents were farmers. Good people with a simple, hard life. I didn't want that. I wanted anything but that. As soon as I could flee Tiptree, I did. Had no idea what I wanted to do, and then a friend of mine recommended I join up with the school newspaper at university. It was love at first byline.]_

_[M: Speaking of … serious question. I've heard you're trying to broker an alliance with the Krogan …]_

_[J: Is this Rai Mercier the journalist asking? Or Mar, the friend?]_

_Friend, huh?_  She would work with that.

_[M: … Both?]_

_[J: OFF THE RECORD. Yes. Shepard's loco.]_

_[M: You're kidding, right? She's fucking brilliant.]_

_[J: I know. We might just win this thing.]_

It sure did not look that way from the ground. Marie remembered telling James that military operations seemed okay a couple days ago. It had been a horrendously premature assessment. It seemed like most of the new faces coming through the camp were gone at the end of the day. But, if there was anyone Marie wanted to have hope, it was Commander Shepard's crew.

_[M: It's good to hear you say that.]_

_[M: You SURE I can't use you as a source?]_

_[J: NO]_

_[J: Lola would space me out the airlock.]_

_[M: Lola?]_

_[J: Shepard]_

_[M: There is no way in hell Commander fucking Shepard lets you call her LOLA.]_

_[J: She said I could get away with it. Because I'm cute.]_

Marie suspected the marine was just trying to get a rise out of her. It was working. She considered not taking the bait – two could play at that game, after all – but life was short. Particularly now.

_[M: Sounds like I've got some competition.]_

_[M: Guess I'll have to see if I can use Steve as my source instead.]_

Nice and casual. Marie was tempted to literally pat herself on the back.

_[J: Don't worry. Pretty sure fraternizing's still against the regs.]_

Marie bit down on her lower lip and smiled. Did he just imply that he would  _fraternize_ with her?

_[J: And don't get my drinking buddy in trouble!]_

_[M: YOU HAVE ALCOHOL!? I hate you. You have no idea how badly I could use a drink. Supply lines here are shot to hell.]_

Of course, Marie was pretty damn impressed that the Alliance even had any supply lines in place. She had dined last night on military rations, and her pencil skirt was replaced by a rotation standard-issue fatigues and light armor. There were perks to having an ANN badge.

_[J: Ouch. I'll drink a cerveza for you later.]_

_[M: You're a terrible person, James Vega.]_

"Hey! Rai Mercier!"

Marie groaned as Daniel Granger jogged toward her. Danny was a good kid, and he was holding it together alright. That begin said, ANN's Citadel branch had promoted him to Marie's executive producer. She wanted nothing more than to file only written stories, but the suited bastards in their comfy offices insisted on video footage. Deep down, Marie reluctantly knew they were right. People needed to see what was happening down on Earth, and Marie was better in front of the camera than the scared, towheaded kid they were calling an EP. That did not mean she had to be happy about it.

"Give me five," Marie said, holding out a freshly healed hand. It was time for them to head out, to cover a unit's investigation of a distress call from some refugees on the outskirts of the city. "I gotta find Andre."

"Alright. Meet me over by the shuttles," Danny said, jutting his thumb in their general direction. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You just look happy. Not feeling well or something?"

"Ha ha, asshole," she said, and he flashed Marie a boyish grin.  _Good. That may be the first time I've seen him smile._ "I was able to get in touch with a friend, is all."

His eyes went big. "Nice. Hey – do you think – well, do you think I could get in a shot while we're out there? For, like, a second? Just so my folks can see I'm okay, if they're alive somewhere."

There was something in the way Danny voiced his request that made Marie's heart break. He really was just an optimistic, in-over-his-head kid.

"Hey, you're the EP," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "Works for me."

He nodded appreciatively and ran off toward the shuttle as another message from James came in.

_[J: Sorry. That was mean.]_

_[M: Hey, now. Don't walk on egg shells around me. It's fine. I've gotta go, though. Gonna film a story. Look for me in the vids.]_

_[J: Break a leg.]_

* * *

**2 August 2186 || 13:00 GST || Holding Docks, Citadel**

James was down in the refugee camp at the Citadel docks when he heard her name. He bolted up to look at the monitor against the wall, where a well-dressed woman at a desk was giving a report, an image of Earth in the background. It was strange to see it like that, pristine and not on fire.

"–Mercier, ANN, brought us this report from the front lines of the fighting on Earth."

The screen cut from the prim woman behind a desk to a rubble-strewn Vancouver street. The sound of gunfire came through the speakers as the camera panned.  _God damn it._ It was just as bad as James had imagined.

"As resistance forces on Earth enter the fifth day of fighting, Reaper air and ground strikes continue to bear down on major population centers. The destruction you see is the result of one of their main weapons, a massive energy beam capable of destroying half a city block with one firing."

The camera panned to Marie, running beside a soldier with his assault rifle drawn. James could see what Marie meant about being wounded. She had pulled her long dark hair into a ponytail, and James suspected that she was deliberately showing off how half of her ear had been torn away. Even so, or maybe because of it, James had to admit she looked damn sexy in armor.

"As Alliance air forces confront the Reapers themselves, ground forces are facing their other primary weapon. ANN warns it's viewers that the following footage contains graphic content."

The vid cut to a different angle, and Marie was voicing over footage from inside a blasted-out shop. The camera panned down to a pile of husk corpses. Vega heard a young woman beside him gasp in shock. Sure, he had already faced a few hundred of the bastards, but it was easy to forget that even the refugees here may not have seen a husk before.

"Alliance infantrymen refer to the creatures as 'husks.' Make no mistake, these Reaper soldiers are no longer human. They were first seen nearly three years ago when the rogue Spectre Saren Arturus attacked Eden Prime as an ally of the Reapers. The Alliance believes–"

Marie was cut off by a yell from a nearby private. She vaulted into cover through a broken window, the camera following closely behind. James caught sight of a couple Cannibals in the street, and he found himself clenching his fists. He knew Marie was fine. Hell, he had talked to her his morning, and the footage was a couple days old. Still–

"Behind me, ground troops are engaged with another type of Reaper soldier known among those on the ground as Cannibals," Marie said on screen. Her normally sultry British voice had pitched up half an octave, but James was impressed with her composure. The camera looked over the ledge to show the firefight. "These forces are believed to be corrupted Batarians. Again, ANN stresses that the exact facts surrounding Reaper ground forces are murky at best."

On screen, one Cannibal began to reinforce its armor with the corpse of another fallen Batarian. James had to give ANN credit. They were not shying away from showing the realities of the battles. He heard someone on the vid yell "Man down!" as the last Cannibal was taken out with some incendiary ammo.

The battle over, Marie was back up and jogging with the center of the squad, as they made their way down the street. The camera zoomed out to show her surrounded by soldiers in the wasteland of a city. They wove through crashed sky cars left in the road and the rubble of half-collapsed buildings. One of the soldiers helped Marie over a point where a fallen traffic light had blocked the road.

"At present, the main objective of Resistance forces is to find and safely relocate civilians still trapped within major cities."

The scenery abruptly shifted. Marie was now standing in a wooded refugee camp, still wearing her armor. It was hard to get a sense of how big the refugee camp actually was, but there were makeshift tents as far as James could see through the pinewood forest. People had hung blankets, coats, and tarps of various colors from branches or over ropes. Marie's tone seemed unusually terse as it voiced over footage of Marie walking through the camp.

"Some refugees are being relocated here, to an undisclosed location in North America. The people here have seen unspeakable horrors, but there is also hope."

In the next shot, Marie was sitting cross legged atop fallen pine needles among a group of young children. James now understood why she sounded so pissed. The second half of the vid was a puff piece. He was tempted to turn away in disgust – happy refugees were  _not_ what people on the Citadel needed to see – but James also wanted to watch Marie in action. It was as if she was a totally different person, inside the camp. The fearless soldier on the front lines was gone, replaced by a compassionate and engaging woman.

She talked to a young father of two about their harrowing escape from the city. She interviewed a school teacher about her efforts to keep educating the children. Her questions were unflinching but kind, and James understood why the network wanted to run this part of the piece. There  _was_  hope inside the camp. It even helped lift James's spirits. Maybe his own family was in a settlement like that, safe and well-fed, somewhere in the southwest. Maybe they were just cut off from communication. He could hope, and that was the point.

The vid ended with Marie signing off, and James turned away from the crowd that had gathered in front of the screen. He pulled up his Omni-tool and saw that Marie was online.

_[J: Saw your vid. Damn, chica.]_

_[M: They cut half my fucking footage. But, thanks.]_

_[J: What happened?]_

_[M: Found the refugees we were looking for. Reapers were turning them into husks.]_

_Holy shit._

_[M: People need to see. They don't need fluff. They need images that will make them want to help. Fight in the resistance or send us some god damned ships.]_

_[M: There are private security firms down here. Bastards refuse to do anything but protect a couple corporate compounds with THEIR GIANT FUCKING FRIGATES.]_

_[M: Turns out people can still suck balls at the end of the world. I was hoping if they saw how terrible things really were … sorry. Rant over. You still there?]_

James was, but he had to forcefully unclench his fist so that he could still type. Here they were, trying to fight the end of the galaxy, and people were pulling sleazy shenanigans like  _that._ It was hardly unpredictable, but it was still infuriating.

_[J: You gonna report on those pendejos?]_

_[M: Filed a story. Even had an interview with Admiral Anderson. But guess who's a corporate sponsor of ANN? I'd leak the written report, but the last thing I need is to get fired. Not that I really care about my job. It's not like credits mean anything down here. But I need to keep reporting on this.]_

James was probably going to regret his next message. There were at least three regulations he could think of against what he was about to offer _._  But, this war was never going to be won if everyone kept fighting each other or hoarding resources.

_[J: Give it to Anderson. Have him send it through Alliance channels to me. I'll find someone to get the story out, without your prints on it.]_

_[M: Seriously? Thank you, James. I mean it.]_

_[J: Now you owe me a favor, Mar.]_

_[M: Well, you're just gonna have to get your ass down here and claim it yourself.]_

James found himself grinning like an idiot.

_[J: It's a date.]_

_[J: Enough shop talk. How are you?]_

_[M: Embedded in a war zone, spending my days in the ruins of the city I called home for 3 years. Spending my nights cuddling with an orphaned little girl.]_

_[M: I've been better.]_

_[J: I'm serious, Mar.]_

There was a long pause. James walked back over to the poker game, wondering if he had just pushed too far. They were becoming fast friends, sure, but there was no way of knowing how far Marie was willing to be prodded on personal matters. And, there was no easy way to convey the subtleties of their conversation via text message. He wished he could just connect a voice line and  _talk_ to her. Before that vid, he had forgotten what her voice even sounded like. It was not a newscaster's voice. It was too rough around the edges, low and gravelly.

And sexy as hell.

_[M: I'm not sleeping. Every day blurs into the next. I close my eyes and see the faces of the dead. But, I'm still alive. We're still fighting.]_

_[M: You?]_

James now understood Marie's long pause. He was grateful she had answered, even if her words brought a painful knot to his chest, but there was no easy way to reply.

_[J: Just got back from a mission I can't talk about. It went well, though. Something good's about to happen. I think. And I'm currently up on the Citadel playing poker. So … I'm okay.]_

_[M: Got any details for your favorite reporter?]_

_[J: You're relentless.]_

_[M: I prefer dedicated.]_

_[M: And I'm glad you're okay.]_

_[M: Got to go. Stay safe, okay? No more crashing shuttles into other shuttles.]_

So, she and Esteban had been talking about him. He would have to press Steve later, to find out if Marie had let anything interesting slip. Or if Esteban had said something stupid.

_[J: No promises. You stay safe, too, yeah? Try to stay out of any more gunfights. Wouldn't want you to mess up that pretty face.]_

_[M: Pretty, huh? No promises.]_


	5. Radioactive Rubble

**6 August 2186 || 11:00 PST || First Battalion Rendezvous Point Alpha, Canada, Earth**

"Goal!"

Priya giggled as Danny got up from his over-exaggerated, wildly bad dive in front of their makeshift football goal between two pine trees. The two of them had found a flat, clear patch in the woods. Priya ran over and stuck her tongue out at him before retrieving the ball.

"You're letting me win!" she huffed. "You have to try and block it!"

Marie smiled as Danny dusted himself off. It was good to see them both like this, finding just a little bit of happiness. It made her own anxiety feel a little less overwhelming. Marie had not felt so vulnerable since the initial attacks. To start, Andre was out on a dangerous mission. The resistance was attempting to hit a Reaper prisoner camp on the outskirts of the city. They had called in units from all over the west coast. Anderson had very firmly told Marie that the press would not be allowed. It was too dangerous.

And that was  _exactly_ what she wanted to hear, when one of her few friends left in the galaxy was on that  _too dangerous_ mission. Marie looked down at her Omni-tool in frustration. Steve and James were still offline. James had said they would be out of contact for a few days, but he could not say why. Steve had been a little less oblique, so Marie knew this had  _something_ to do with getting the Krogan on board for an alliance. But, where the Normandy was flying just got added to the long list of things Marie did not know, right up there with whether her friends were dead or alive.

She watched the match between Danny and Priya as the sun rose overhead, filtering through the trees and the perpetual smoke that lingered in the air now. She had no story to file, and Marie was not keen on getting B-roll footage or looking at the news alerts application on her Omni-tool. There was never any good news anymore. There were casualty reports in the millions and sketchy intelligence about whole colonies going dark. Marie had not been able to find out a damn thing about Tiptree. There were no confirmed reports about the planet one way or another. The nearest communications buoys must have been destroyed. That did not necessarily mean that the tiny planet was under attack. But it also meant her parents were far from safe.

When lunch came around, Danny brought a ration bar over to Marie. "You need to eat something."

She shook her head. "Can't. They should have been back by now. It's been almost eight hours."

"You hear in from your friends on the Normandy, yet?"

"No," Marie sighed. "But Steve made it sound like they were heading out to the edge of dark space, so I'll give them another day before I start freaking out. Besides, if something had really happened to Commander Shepard, I suspect we would hear about it sooner rather than later."

"Yeah, and if something had happened in the city, we would have heard about it by now," Danny said, motioning around. He was right. Soldiers were milling about on their daily duties. The air was tense, but nobody was panicking.

"When did you get so knowledgeable about wartime reporting?"

"Yesterday," Danny said, flashing her a smile. It worked. Marie laughed and took the ration bar from him.

"You doing okay?" she asked seriously.

His smile grew larger, more genuine. "I didn't want to say anything, but I heard from my parents. They're in a refugee camp in the mountains. It sounds like the Reapers are leaving them alone, for now."

"That's fantastic!" Marie said enthusiastically. And she meant it. She really did. It was great to hear some good news, for once. "And I'd imagine the Reapers have little reason to target Tibet. They should be safe for a while."

"That's what I'm hoping," he said. "But there's an Alliance outpost there. That's how they got word through to me. So, I guess it makes them a target, but–"

"They'll be okay," Marie said firmly. "They've got the terrain and a sparse population on their side. They were lucky, choosing now to be on vacation."

Danny nodded, but his face displayed an unspoken truth between them. Danny's parents might be alive, but his older sister was almost certainly not. She had been in the ANN building in Vancouver, and it sounded like headquarters was nothing but a pile of rubble now. All those friends and colleagues–

Marie's morose thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a shuttle. She looked through the trees, across a clearing that made up the base camp, and there was a small fleet returning. Marie found herself counting. Six. There were six shuttles returning, but she remembered eight leaving. Maybe they had lost the shuttles but not the men. Maybe some shuttles had returned to other outposts. Or maybe they had lost even more people to this brutal war.

Marie stood and helped Danny to his feet. Priya stood nearby, the football under one sandaled foot, and studied Marie carefully. The older girl tried to put on a brave face, but she was uncertain about her success. All of Marie's previous attempts at hiding the horrors of this war from Priya had failed. The child was annoyingly, precociously observant. She reminded Marie quite painfully of Claire at that age.

"Should we film this?" Danny asked.

"I really, really don't want to," Marie groaned. "But footage of soldiers and refugees, no matter the state they're in, is valuable. I'm staying out of the shot, though."

"Roger that, boss," Danny said, running over and powering up the camera. It turned on with a faint whirring noise and came to hover between them.

They made their way over to the landing zone just as Marie's Omni-tool pinged. Three pulses. It was James.

_You have terrible timing, asshole._

The first sign of trouble came when two medics barreled past Marie and Danny toward the shuttles. The journalists shared a wary look and picked up their pace.

"Priya," Marie called back. "Go back to the tent. That's an order, kid."

The little girl in a dirty blue dress pouted, but she ran back to the military-issue tent she was sharing with Marie and Andre. Marie grit her teeth and ran ahead, just as the shuttles touched down in the LZ. When the first door opened, Marie felt a surge of relief. There were refugees aboard, and most of them were unharmed. Then the second door opened, and Marie felt the air forced from her lungs. Anderson was standing there, and there was something dark and foreboding in his eyes.

This had not been a victory.

Marie pushed through the crowd as the rest of the shuttles landed, looking for Andre. All around her there were injured soldiers and civilians streaming out. Most of the refugees looked shell-shocked, and the soldiers looked almost as bad. Someone grabbed her arm, and Marie snapped her head up to come face to face with Andre. Professionalism be damned, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He was uninjured, but she saw a deep hollowness in his gaunt face.

"Come on," Marie said quietly. "Let's get you out of here. Danny, set the camera on an auto mode and see what you can find out!"

Danny nodded and messed with something on his Omni-tool. Marie threw Andre's arm over her shoulder – he looked ready to collapse any second – and walked him away from the chaos. She found a quiet place behind a tent and set him down. He asked for Priya, and Marie only shook her head. She did not want the little girl seeing her surrogate big brother like this.

"What happened out there?" she asked.

"This is all that's left," Andre said. Marie did not immediately understand his meaning, and he must have seen the confusion on her face. "Most of the resistance fighters. Almost all of the prisoners. They're all dead. The Reapers were waiting for us."

Marie looked over to the shuttles. They had sent a group of nearly two hundred soldiers from all over the continent, to get out thousands prisoners. If the hundred or so people at the landing zone was all that was left– "Damn it. I – I have to get to work," she said in a low voice, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah. Just give me a minute, and I'll go find Priya."

Marie gave him a hug, and she made sure Andre was the first one to let go. "She's over at the tent. I'll come find you as soon as I'm done."

It was hours later that Marie felt she had done her job. She was mentally and physically exhausted, and she felt incredibly guilty. She was safe in the camp. She had not lived through a tenth of the horrors that these refugees or soldiers had faced. Most of them had just lost their friends and family. Everything. They were half-starved and horrified, like something out of an old war vid. What right did Marie have to feel tired or distressed?

She and Danny wrapped up filming some B-roll of the new refugees settling in to Alliance-issue tents or makeshift shelters. They interviewed a few soldiers. Marie imagined very few of them actually wanted to talk, but she found that most of them would. They wanted to make sure that their families, wherever they were, saw them alive. Anderson declined being interviewed on camera, like always, but he still promised to give Marie access to an only lightly censored version of his report.

"Go get some rest, kid," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're doing all you can."

"If that was true, I would have been out there on the front lines," Marie said.

"I'm the last person to be a self-proclaimed fan of the press," Anderson said. "But this is the kind of thing people needs to see. This is the kind of thing the Council needs to see. You getting killed on the front lines doesn't do us any good."

"Yeah, well, let me know when you've got that report," Marie said. She realized Anderson's words were genuine, but they still felt like empty platitudes.

Marie started walking back over to find Andre and Priya when she remembered the message from James. She opened up her inbox to find a series of texts in half-hour increments.

_[J: So I've had one hell of a day. How've you been?]_

_[J: Don't leave me hanging here, Mar.]_

_[J: You better not be getting yourself shot at down there.]_

_Shit._ She had a damn front-line marine worried about  _her._ Marie stopped walking and bit down on her lower lip, staring at the original question. How was she supposed to answer  _that,_ after today?

_[M: Tell me you've got the Krogan aboard. I could use some good news.]_

_[J: What happened?]_

_[M: Raid on a prison camp went south. We lost a lot of good soldiers and most of the refugees.]_

_[J: Were you there?!]_

_[M: No. Anderson wouldn't let me go along. He's fine, by the way. So is Andre. It's just … it was a slaughter. Everyone here's pretty messed up.]_

_[J: Remind me to thank Anderson.]_

_[J: You okay?]_

_[M: Things were going alright, you know? All things considered. We were even pushing the ground forces back in a couple of nearby suburbs. And this raid had given people hope. It felt like we were actually going to make some progress. Do some good.]_

_[M: Now … everything's different. If things don't pick back up soon, I'm not sure how much fight is left in most people here. I'm not sure how much fight I've got left.]_

Marie found herself really wishing she could commandeer a QEC-enabled video communication unit. Even though Marie was a professional writer, expressing something like this over a text felt hollow.

_[M: So, tell me you've got some good news.]_

_[J: We recruited some Rachni.]_

_[M: Stick to fighting, marine. You're not a very good comedian.]_

_[J: I'm being serious. The Reapers had imprisoned the Rachni queen. We freed her, and now she's working with us.]_

_[M: And I thought nothing could surprise me anymore. Wow. I guess that does count as good news. Is everyone alright?]_

_[J: Lost some krogan soldiers we were fighting beside. Just one of them survived. We're taking him to the Citadel.]_

_[M: Damn. I'm sorry, James.]_

_[J: You know, I don't think most people would care about some dead krogan. Not while the Reapers bear down on Earth.]_

_[M: They were allies. They were people. They mattered. If we start getting callous just because the death tolls reach up into the hundreds of millions … if not the billions … then the Reapers might as well have already won.]_

_[J: You're not very good at taking the easy road, are you?]_

_[M: No. Too boring, most of the time. I guess that's something we have in common.]_

* * *

**9 August 2186 || 17:00 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

James stared at the newest message in his inbox with a smile.

_[Sender: Allison Vos, Alliance Military]_

_[Recipient: James Vega, Alliance Military]_

_[Hey, Vega! Glad to hear you're still kicking. Got that interesting attachment you sent my way. I think I can do something with it. Keep an eye on the AP newswire.]_

It was nice to hear a little good news, after everything that just happened with the Primarch's son on Palaven. They were regrouping to rendezvous at another location, with hopes of disabling the giant freaking bomb that would blow their little attempt at an alliance with the Krogan out of the water. So, hearing that James's old friend Vos would pass on Marie's intelligence about war profiteering on Earth – the story her own idiotic network refused to run – was a nice change of pace.

Of course, when James  _actually_ looked at the newswire, his mood changed considerably. The top story was about a small Midwestern town setting off a nuclear bomb to keep the Reapers from getting access to the ICBMs stored in a nearby military silo. And then there was Marie's story about what happened earlier in the week. He knew it would be bad, based on the little James was able to coax out of her over their messages the past few days. But, her finished report described the brutality of the Reaper prison camp in excruciating detail.

_VANCOUVER, CANADA – Thousands are dead after a failed attempt to extract survivors from a Reaper prison in British Columbia. The extraction would have been the largest military operation of the resistance on Earth so far, bringing together troops from across Pacific Northwest of North America._

_Alliance sources now believe indoctrinated persons within resistance forces alerted the Reapers to plans of the attack hours before it began. As a result, Reaper forces began processing refugees by the thousands into the abominations commonly referred to as husks before resistance forces arrived. Surviving refugees watched their fellow prisoners impaled and turned into Reaper ground forces, before resistance forces began an air strike early Sunday morning. (Related links: Known details of husk physiology. Raw video footage of husk creation in London.)_

_Eyewitness reports from the 156 refugees who survived the camp tell of prisoners being separated over the past two weeks into different groups based on unknown criteria. Most were processed into husks, while a few others appeared to be separated out for gruesome experiments. Screaming could reportedly be heard at all hours from one of the buildings on the compound, where a few prisoners entered and never left. Indoctrinated humans were put in charge of communicating with prisoners, as well as punishments for disobeying orders._ _(Related links: Known lists of survivors from Reaper occupied worlds. Human embassy unable to meet demands of refugee records keeping crisis.)_

_"They told us we would be allowed to leave if we showed loyalty to the Reapers," Dr. Xiaoyi Chen, a resident of Vancouver, told ANN Sunday night. "If we reported escape attempts from other prisoners or told them where other survivors were, they would let us go. But the ones that did – the ones that left, they weren't right. You could tell something was off. The Reapers did something to them."_

_Multiple witnesses confirm that some refugees were allowed to leave the prison prior to the failed extraction, although intelligence sources believe these individuals were being indoctrinated. Alliance forces are now beginning the process of creating screening criteria for resistance forces. However, sources from Alliance Intelligence have alerted ANN that information on the indoctrination process, including its signs and symptoms, is unfortunately scarce. (Related links: Possible signs of indoctrination. Suspect indoctrination? Council officials establish hotline for whistleblowers.)_

_"The ones that died right away, those were the lucky ones," said Emily Smith, a former employee in the Vancouver mayor's office. "The ones they turned in to those things, or the ones we could hear screaming through the night as they did God knows what to them, those were the really unlucky ones. Give me a bullet to the head any day."_

_In addition to the grisly fate of most inmates, refugees reported inhumane conditions within the prisons. Most prisoners reported not being fed for days at a time. There was no access to sanitary facilities or medical attention. Human rights groups operating from the Citadel have confirmed multiple reports of similar treatment across Reaper occupied worlds._

_"What we're seeing is unlike anything we've witnessed for a hundred years, even in some of the worst war zones on Earth," Amnesty Interstellar spokesperson Halen Invius told the Associated Press in the aftermath of Sunday's events. "Reaper indoctrinated forces are calling these facilities rebel prisons, but they are truly concentration camps. Torture, unethical experimentation, and brutal conditions are widely reported."_

_Camp conditions were confirmed by survivor Alexander Ramon, a fifteen year old student who spoke to ANN at length about his experience. (Related links: Video interviews of refugees from Earth. Survivors from Brazil evacuated to Earth.) Ramon is one of the few refugees whose family remains intact, but his depiction of events paints a gruesome picture. ANN warns readers that a graphic accounting of camp conditions follows._

The write up was followed by a video interview. Marie was sitting across from a young kid with a fresh patch over one eye and his arm in a sling. The boy was talking with impressive clarity, given everything he described.

_"They found us holed up in my high school. It was a couple days after the first attack. We were starting to run out of food. There was a gunfight, and, well, most everyone died. I got knocked out, and I came to in a shuttle with my mom and dad. I thought we were safe, when the door opened and there was a human there._

_"But, he ordered us all into a line. He started–" The boy stopped and took a deep breath. "Sorry. He started pulling people out of line, and these things grabbed them. Never seen anything like them. It was horrible. They started pulling them away, and everyone's screaming. Crying. There were these spikes coming out on the ground. They made them lie down at gunpoint, and–"_

_His voice broke, and James saw Marie look off camera. She looked ready to stop the interview when the boy continued, "Well, they were turned into those zombies. The guy told us we would end up like that, if we didn't cooperate. Then they marched us off into an old factory. Told us to stay put and shut up, and we would live. But there was no food. No water. We were in there for days. No one was allowed to leave, unless they dragged you out to do – There was this little girl. She was sick. Cholera, someone said. She was just dying on the ground of dehydration, covered in her own – no one could help her."_

_"She wasn't the first. My dad got sick, but the soldiers got us out. Got him help."_

_"What happened when the Alliance arrived?" Marie asked softly._

_"We knew something was going on. We could hear screaming from the building next door," he said quietly. "Then the doors slid open, and one of the turian guards said we were leaving. When we got outside, we saw what was going on. They were processing everyone. Turning them into – people started screaming. Running. There was a lot of gunfire. I hid in the bushes with my parents. Then the Alliance came. They took out the indoctrinated and the husks. They saved us."_

There was more, but James turned off the vid. He had seen enough. And it was not just the horrors going on down on Earth, leaving James to wonder if his uncle or cousins faced a similar fate. It was the way Marie looked like she had lost ten pounds. It was the empty, far off look in her eyes. This war was breaking her, even if she often joked around via text message. But, James knew his attempts at getting her to really  _talk_ about it would be fruitless. So, he tried a different tactic.

_[SMS Conversation: Marie Rai Mercier]_

_[J: Favorite subject in school?]_

Thankfully, her response was almost instant.

_[M: Math]_

_[J: Nerd]_

_[M: Favorite band?]_

_[J: Resonant Transistors]_

_[M: Huh. Wouldn't have predicted that you have good taste in music.]_

_[J: Ha ha.]_

James was far from actually laughing. This little game of distraction was not really working. He decided to try a different approach.

_[J: My turn. First love?]_

_[M: Well that got serious.]_

_[J: You chickening out on me?]_

_[M: Her name was Sera. Asari. We met when I was stationed on Thessia. I was right out of college. She was a dancer.]_

Whoa. James had not realized Marie was into asari. Looked like they had one more thing in common. (That was a pretty short list, comprised solely of a good sense of humor, a reckless disregard for self preservation, and still being alive.) He just hoped Marie was still into human males, too.

_[J: What happened?]_

_[M: What always happens. Life. I got reassigned to Bekenstein, covering corruption and corporate espionage, and she didn't want to leave home. We tried to make long distance work, but it didn't. We used to keep in touch, but I haven't talked to her in a while.]_

_[M: So … what about you?]_

_[J: High school. Her name was Lupe.]_

_[M: And…?]_

_[J: And she went to college. I didn't. It wasn't a good break up.]_

_[M: I didn't realize … did you join up straight out of high school?]_

_[J: Yeah … truth be told, I was escaping my dad. Guess you never pictured yourself befriending an uneducated lunk, huh?]_

_[M: Never pictured myself with an exotic dancer, either. Oh man, my parents were pissed when they found out.]_

_[J: Ok, you have to stop talking about your stripper girlfriend, or I'm going to need to go take a cold shower.]_

_[M: Ha! You know … I have some interesting pictures on my Omni-tool. Maybe if you're really good I'll send you one.]_

_Ay, dios mío._ Okay, "shameless, dirty flirt" was also on the short list.

_[J: I'm holding you to that.]_

_[M: Pervert.]_

_[J: Hey! You offered, chica.]_

_[M: Still. What is it with straight guys and girl-on-asari action? I mean, don't get me wrong, it does mean more stuff on the extranet that fits my tastes. But it is a little weird.]_

_[M: Hey … I don't think I've ever properly thanked you for this, but I appreciate the distraction. No one else wants to talk about normal things anymore.]_

This conversation was not exactly what James would describe as  _normal._ And he was still not sure that distraction was really what Marie needed. But, if she thought it was helping, maybe that was enough.

_[J: Start talking about your sexy stripper girlfriend more, and that might change.]_

_[M: You know, I really like you, Vega. Don't go pushing your luck.]_

_[M: Damn it. Look, I've got to go. We're moving to a new location. I'll try to get off a message as soon as comms get back online.]_

_[J: Be safe.]_

_[M: I will. I promise. You too, okay?]_

_[J: Promise.]_


	6. A Little Good News

**10 August 2186 || 13:00 PST || First Battalion Outpost, British Columbia, Canada, Earth**

It was almost unsettlingly peaceful at the new battalion outpost. Anderson's unit had relocated to the middle of nowhere, out among orchards and wheat fields, away from any burning skylines. It had even been two whole days since Marie had seen a dead body. That had to be some kind of record.

_Shit. I really need to stop thinking like that._

"I just read something pretty interesting."

Marie looked up, and Admiral Anderson was handing her a datapad. She took it and furrowed her brow, expecting bad news. The document pulled up provided the exact opposite. It was a published Associated Press story. It was one of  _her_ stories.

"Who knew Vega was as dependable as he is cute?" Marie mused.  _Did you really just say that aloud? To fucking Anderson?_

Anderson chuckled. "I was wondering if there was something going on between the two of you."

"There isn't," Marie hastily corrected, not taking her eyes off the page. The AP writer had redone the story enough that it would be difficult to trace back to Marie and Danny. Good. The last thing they needed was for ANN to pull their press credentials. "I mean, we're – I don't know. It's complicated. We only met two days before the Reapers touched down."

"Really? The way you're always talking about him, you two seem close," Anderson said, sitting down beside her.

_I do not always talk about him._

"We've just been texting back and forth, is all," Marie said hurriedly, handing back the datapad. "It's not like I know a whole lot of people who are still alive, so–"

As Marie trailed off, Anderson took the opportunity to speak up. "He's a good kid. A good marine, sure. But he's more than that."

"Yeah. He has a way of sneaking up on you," Marie said softly. She changed to a more professional tone and added, "And, like I said, he's reliable. If I gave you some footage that ANN won't air, think you could get it out to him over a secure channel? Maybe he can use the same contact to get it aired somewhere."

"What footage do you have that ANN won't show?"

"A few days ago, in the city, we got footage of indoctrinated – well, of them turning themselves into husks," Marie said in a dark voice. "ANN says it's too graphic. They won't even put it up with a warning on the extranet. But this is the kind of thing people should see. It's brutal, but this whole damn war is brutal. The asari and salarians are still sitting around with their thumbs up their asses, but maybe if they saw–"

"They have their own worlds to worry about," Anderson chided gently.

"Their worlds aren't burning," she shot back bitterly. "I mean, hell, I know  _we_ would probably do the same damn thing, if the tables were turned. Just look at that damned story, with all the shit ERCS was pulling. We're hardly the most noble players in the game. But, it still pisses me off. I – look, do you really think that everything Shepard's doing will actually help? Do you think they'll really send troops?"

"The turians and krogan will keep their word, if this alliance succeeds," Anderson said confidently. "Shepard will make sure of that. And we're getting more support for the Crucible project every day, thanks to her. But, I know it's hard. Millions are still dying down here every day that diplomacy tries to work itself out."

"It just feels like – I don't know. Is what I'm doing down here really helping? Is it really important? Maybe I should just be training with an AR–"

"I brought that story to you for a reason. I came to tell you that the Council's launching an investigation, and London's reporting in that different private security firms have come to the table," Anderson said. "That story mattered. Hell, it will probably save lives. It may be hard for an old soldier like me to admit, but it takes more than infantrymen or even heavy munitions to win a war."

"Normally I would believe you wholeheartedly, sir. But, this isn't your average war."

"No, but I'm the one who's had a few good vidcomm chats with Commander Shepard and Admiral Hackett," Anderson said. "Trust me, the diplomacy and research and even damned press is making a difference."

"You've called the Normandy?" Marie said, the question past her lips before she could reel the curiosity back in.  _That_ was not the piece to take away from this conversation.

"Tell you what," Anderson said, standing. "Keep publishing pieces like that – and get me that vid you were talking about – and I'll see what I can do about getting you a short interview with Shepard. There might even be time after to talk to a couple old friends on the crew."

"That's – I – wow," Marie stuttered. "Thank you, sir. Honestly."

Marie's Omni-tool pinged three times.  _James._ Anderson noticed and began walking away. "I'll let you get back to work, Miss Rai Mercier."

Yeah. Work. That was totally what she was going to do right now.

_[J: Ahem.]_

Marie rolled her eyes. Bloody arrogant son of a bitch.

_[M: Yeah, yeah. You're amazing and blah blah blah.]_

_[M: If I have Anderson send another piece your way, think you could fence it?]_

_[J: I'll see what I can do. What messed up conflict of interest is ANN slave to now?]_

_[M: More of an internal guidelines thing. They have a certain gore threshold, and people becoming husks goes beyond it.]_

_[J: Shit. Are you okay?]_

_[M: Don't worry, this is stuff from a while back. I'm … okay, I'm not over it. I don't think you get over seeing something like that.]_

_[M: Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't really wanna talk about it.]_

_[J: Okay. How's your day going?]_

_[M: It's quiet here. We relocated further out, in the middle of nowhere. I'm supposed to tag along for a recon mission later tonight, but right now … hell, you'd almost forget there was a war on. Except for the whole being in military fatigues in a military camp bit.]_

_[M: You?]_

_[J: Just got back from a mission I can't talk about. We did what we set out to do, but…]_

Marie was starting to become familiar with that particular "but." It was the  _but we lost a lot of good men_ "but."

_[M: You okay?]_

_[J: Yeah. We did something good today, and I'll hopefully have more good news to report on in a couple days.]_

Oh, how Marie hated this war. It should never be a  _good_ day when someone died. But, there would be no even remotely good days for a long time to come unless they looked past the constant background noise of death.

_[M: So this alliance is on track?]_

_[J: Looks that way. Shepard may actually pull this off.]_

_[M: And it only took the end of the galaxy to get the Turians and Krogans to play nice.]_

_[M: Now if only the rest of the council races would get their shit together.]_

_[J: Let Shepard have a crack at them, and I'm sure it will all get sorted.]_

_[M: You know … no one's ever told me exactly how Shepard is getting them to cooperate.]_

_[J: Nice try.]_

_[M: Had to.]_

_[J: Stop trying to get me fired.]_

_[M: Psh. They won't get rid of you until this war's done. And then, hell, you'll deserve an early retirement.]_

_[J: You're telling me you'll just stop working the second the war's over?]_

_[M: Hell no. But I'll still have a shit ton to do. There will be war criminals to bring to justice and profiteers to expose. There will be bureaucrats dragging their feet on reconstruction. My job will just be getting started, though it will be nice to do it without getting shot at.]_

_[J: Speaking of, do you have to do these recon missions? Can't you just send the camera out with the soldiers? Isn't that what they have unmanned cameras for?]_

_[M: We don't have a conflict V.I. Besides, people connect a lot better when there's a reporter in the line of fire. It feels more real, when they can see a civilian reacting to everything.]_

_[M: Plus, if the camera gets shot down, I can use my Omni-tool to get footage.]_

_[M: You worried about me up there, lieutenant?]_

_[J: Maybe I am. And I'm not buying it.]_

_[M: I'm not going on anything too dangerous.]_

_[J: No such thing right now.]_

_[M: Sorry, James. But you're not talking me out of it.]_

_[J: Had to try.]_

_[J: Shepard' s giving me a look. We're about to head out and kick some Cerberus ass. I'll talk to you later.]_

_[M: Good. Be careful.]_

_[J: I will. I promise.]_

* * *

**14 August 2186 || 03:30 PST || First Battalion Outpost, British Columbia, Canada, Earth**

Marie woke with a start. She instinctively wrapped her arm more tightly around Andre and Priya, willing herself to steady her breathing. She was covered in sweat, and Marie was amazed she had not awoken one of them. She pressed her chest up against Andre's muscular but slender back, trying to match the rate of his slow breathing.

Her attempts were unsuccessful. Marie was close to hyperventilating. She needed fresh air. Now. She sat up, hugging her knees for a moment before quietly slipping out of the tent. The camp was running with a skeleton crew, and most of them were on the perimeter. It was almost disturbingly quiet, and Marie wondered if that was why sleep evaded her. A week ago, the sound of gunfire had become as familiar as the din of sky cars passing by her apartment window. The quiet of the moonless night seemed unnatural now.

She looked up to the stars, twinkling through the smoke that always choked the skies, even this far out from the city. Marie tried to shake the images from her nightmares, but they still pressed in on her mind's eye. There were people being impaled on spikes and bodies burning in a field. The scenes seemed almost as vivid as reality, and they were just as inescapable.

Marie had hoped there would be more time before the PTSD set in. But, in the quiet between excursions, when her adrenaline levels dipped back down near normal, it had found her.

She looked down to realize that her Omni-tool was flashing. Maybe that was what had awoken her in the first place. She pulled up the message and was surprised to see a text from Steve. Marie was usually the one instigating communication with the pilot.

_[S: Want the scoop on the biggest story of the year?]_

_[M: I take it you're not talking about the end of the world.]_

Marie found herself wondering why Steve had beat James to the punch, when the next message came in.

_[S: Better.]_

_[M: You have my attention, Mr. Cortez. I don't wanna get you in trouble, though.]_

_[S: Story's gonna get out soon. Just thought you should get the first crack at it. See if you can beat Allers to the punch.]_

Marie chuckled darkly. Allers would be  _royally_ pissed off. Never  _let it never be said I wasn't willing to burn bridges for a story._

_[M: Go.]_

_[S: We just cured the Krogan genophage and took down a reaper. With a thresher maw.]_

Marie blinked, and then she started laughing. She had to clamp a hand down over her mouth, to prevent herself from waking up half the camp. James was not kidding about there being good news on the way.

_[M: You're just screwing with me, right?]_

_[S: Krogan forces are headed to Palaven right now. Once the heat gets taken off there, both groups will send forces to Earth.]_

_[M: Holy shit. I could kiss you, Steven Cortez. Hell, I could kiss your whole crew.]_

_[S: I'm gonna tell Vega you said that.]_

Marie was so happy she did not even care. They brought down a Reaper, proving it was apparently possible to do without a whole damn fleet. They cured the damn genophage. And there might even be reinforcements arriving, eventually.

To top it all off, Marie had one hell of an exclusive.

_[M: Details. Now.]_

Steve launched into as much as he could say over an official channel. Every detail was more fantastical than the last. An immune female krogan poised to bring her people in line. A damn thresher maw – the  _mother of all thresher maws_ , apparently –  _killing_ a  _Reaper._  And then the genophage. Fifteen hundred years of Citadel-sanctioned genocide was over, just like that.

Marie had written her senior thesis on the genophage. Her advisor thought she should pursue a PhD in bioethics. But, Marie had no interest in remaining in school one moment longer than she had to. She belonged in the field. Since college, the topic of the genophage admittedly held only a cursory interest for her. There was rarely breaking news from Tuchanka. She filed it away, along with interest in the Protheans and Council bans on A.I. research. They were dead-end discussions, covered ad nauseam.

Until now.

Hell,  _this_ was the story she was born to report on. Marie was grinning from ear to ear as she pulled up old files on her Omni-tool. She knew she saved that old thesis for a reason.

_[M: Thank you. Seriously. When this is all over, drinks are on me for life.]_

_[M: And go tell Vega he's a chicken.]_

There was a suspicious pause in Steve's messaging before she got a response.

_[S: Not his fault. He's down in med bay getting patched up. He's fine, just a little preoccupied.]_

_[M: Ok. Thanks.]_

Marie groaned. There was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to chew Vega out at length for getting injured, but she needed to start working on the story ASAP. She sent out a simple message before setting her personal inbox to standby.

_[M: Steve told me you were roughed up a bit. He better not have been downplaying it for my sake. Oh, and good job with the whole taking down a Reaper thing.]_

* * *

**14 August 2186 || 12:00 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

"It's just a scratch, doc," Vega insisted.

The way Dr. Chakwas inhaled sharply as she removed Vega's armor suggested it was anything but a small scratch. James winced as she pulled away at his under armor. There was a fresh, half-sealed gash at the side of his abdomen. A damn Brute had gotten in a good swipe right before they managed to summon Kalros. It cut through his armor, and James had run out of Medi-gel while his suit's V.I. tried to repair the wound. At least enough of the medicine had been applied to numb the pain.

Chakwas was chastising him about something when Steve's voice came over James's private comm channel. "Your girlfriend's pissed you haven't checked in yet."

James felt his ears go red. Esteban just was not going to give up on this idea of James and Mar being an item. James did notice, though, the little light on his hand that indicated a new message.  _Oops._

"What did you tell her?"

"Just that you got banged up a bit. And that we cured the genophage."

_Hijo de puta._ James wanted to break that news. He tried to pull up his Omni-tool, but Dr. Chakwas batted his hand away.

"Sit still," she ordered. "I'll have you patched up in a minute."

James grimaced but he obliged. He was feeling restless, but he was not stupid enough to cross Dr. Chakwas. He turned his attention back to Steve at the other end of the line.

"Was that really necessary, Esteban?"

"She's a reporter. Speed's important, and I didn't know how long your ass would be incapacitated. It looked pretty bad."

James shook his head and silenced his audio line. Fifteen minutes later, when the doctor patched him up and put him on bed rest, James pulled up his Omni-tool. There was a message from Marie, who had marked herself as away. Hopefully she was just focusing on the story. Hopefully she was not pissed off at him or something.

_[M: Steve told me you were roughed up a bit. He better not have been downplaying it for my sake. Oh, and good job with the whole taking down a Reaper thing.]_

_[J: Just finished getting patched up. Not a big deal. So that pendejo beat me to the punch, huh?]_

James spent the next half hour in silence, with Dr. Chakwas coming over at one point to offer him something to drink. James took the water gratefully, wishing for something stronger, and noticed how the doctor's eyes kept moving almost unconsciously over to the lab equipment by the door. They lost some good soldiers in the push to the Shroud. Krogan. Turian. But losing that Salarian doctor hurt the most. James could tell Shepard was shaken up about it, and it seemed to be hitting Chakwas pretty badly, too. They had all gone off past the Omega-4 Relay together.

Suicide missions had a way of bringing people together. But, despite James's experience with broken bonds forged in fire, he kept his mouth shut. Comforting people was hardly at the top of his list of proficient skills.

As he sat, bored and anxiously waiting for Shepard to wrap up planet-side or Marie to text back, he considered trying to get some rest. Damn, he was exhausted. It had been one hell of a day. He had just shut his eyes when his Omni-tool pinged.

_[M: Just filed the story to ANN. It should be up once they can get an official comment from the Krogan and Turian militaries. Hackett already gave me a good sound bite.]_

_[J: How'd you manage that one?]_

_[M: Anderson likes me. I told him what was going on, and he offered to patch me through. Hell, he's saying he'll try and get me a five minute interview with Shepard.]_

Damn it. Everyone was just beating James to the punch today.

_[J: We talking about the same Anderson? He never struck me as friends with the press.]_

_[J: And I'll get you ten minutes.]_

_[M: Well, I'm just so damn loveable. And I'm sympathetic to the Alliance. There are some other reporters out there … not the ones on the ground, obviously … posting a whole lot of bullshit about the failure of the Alliance's response.]_

_[M: I mean, okay. Everyone fucking had their heads up their asses before this thing hit, but this isn't the time to bring it up.]_

_[M: Maybe the fact that they just secured an impossible alliance by curing the damn genophage will shut those idiots up.]_

_[M: And I'm going to hold you to that promise, marine. So … how badly are you actually hurt?]_

_[J: I'm fine, Mar.]_

_[M: Don't lie to me, James. I'm on a fact finding roll today. I can even tell when someone's lying to me via text.]_

_[J: Esteban told you.]_

_[M: He said it looked like half your chest plate was caved in.]_

_[M: Otherwise I would have let you sweat it out with a little more silent treatment.]_

_[J: Relax. I'm patched up. I'll be moving around before the day's out.]_

_[J: And I knew it!]_

_[M: ^.^ Hey, I'm just using you for your information, remember? If you're not going to deliver…]_

_[J: That's cold.]_

_[M: Hey, I went on standby! I wasn't mean enough to let you worry. This time.]_

_[J: Okay, that's really not funny.]_

_[M: Sorry. You're right. Seriously, though, you're okay? What happened?]_

_[J: A brute took a good swipe at me.]_

_[M: Brute?]_

_[J: Nasty bastards. Shepard says they're chimeras. Krogan and turian. Size of a damn elcor. If you see one on the ground, just get the hell away from it.]_

The thought of Marie going up against a Brute sent a shiver down James's spine. She was far from a dainty little thing, and James bet she could even hold her own in a fight against a husk. But, Brutes were nasty business. The only non-krogan who could get away with trying to fight them at close range was Shepard. And she was  _loco._

_[J: Hey, with all this field work you insist on, is anyone giving you combat training?]_

_[M: Yeah. Andre's been showing me how to shoot.]_

James's brow furrowed at that. The barista was not exactly James's top pick for an instructor.

_[M: Before you get all snarky, even Anderson says he's a damn good shot. He's been going to the range with his dad since he was a teenager.]_

_[J: Fine. What about hand-to-hand?]_

_[M: I've got a combat upgrade on my Omni-tool.]_

_[J: You know how to use it?]_

_[M: Don't think I'm going to be punching any Cannibals to death, Vega.]_

_[J: No, but you could get a few good hits in on some husks or indoctrinated.]_

_[J: I'm serious, Mar. Talk to someone about getting some training in.]_

_[M: Aw, you're worried about me.]_

_[J: About the girl on Earth who keeps insisting on going into active combat zones? No, can't imagine why I'd be worried about that.]_

_[M: I'll get some sparring time in. Anderson's set up a rudimentary kind of basic training for the fresh recruits.]_

_[J: Good.]_

James exhaled, and he realized he had been tensing up. His numbed side protested with a strange tingle, as the Medi-gel holding together his wound was stretched by the torque of his muscles.  _Damn it._  It made no sense for him to care this much. She was just going to get herself killed, and then–

_[M: Thanks. Look, I just got approval from HQ to file a vid. Guess I should get back to work. Get some rest, okay? I'll talk to you in the morning.]_

_[J: It's night there?]_

_[M: Ish. Sun's just starting to come up.]_

_[J: Sorry we woke you.]_

_[M: You didn't. Look, I really have to go. We can talk about my insomnia later.]_

_[M: I'm serious. Rest up, and try to stay out of trouble.]_

_[J: You too.]_

_[M: I will. I promise.]_


	7. Human Indecency

**16 August 2186 || 08:00 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

James awoke to the underside of a top bunk. His side was still a little sore as he rolled out of bed, but a quick glance showed that the wound was healing well. Hell, it was healing too nicely. James would not have a great scar to show off at this rate. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and crouched low to keep from hitting his head. James decided to check his Omni-tool as he wiped the sleep from his eyes, but his inbox was empty. It usually was these days.

He saw Marie was flagged as away. It was the middle of the night, down at her camp. She was hopefully asleep, but James sent a message. It was the same message he had been sending every morning.

_[J: You still alive down there?]_

James did not expect an immediate response, so he got up, trying not to think of the dark undertones in his question. It had been almost three weeks since the start of the war. But the nagging feeling that he would wake up and find out that one rare survivor or another was suddenly gone remained.

James distracted himself with a shower, wishing for more than three minutes of hot water and decent pressure in the pipes. The Normandy was state of the art, but the engineer in charge of the bathrooms must have been having a bad day. James got out and wrapped a towel around his waist, passing Garrus with a curt nod. He started heading over to the mirror to shave when his Omni-tool pinged. 

_[M: We just lost contact with the Citadel. You know anything?]_

James set down his razor and frowned. The Normandy was heading to the Citadel now. Shepard had some business with the Salarian Councilor.

_Hell, we should be docking any–_

"All hands on deck. We have a situation on the Citadel. Vega, Vakarian, Cortez. Get to the shuttle."

_Shit._

James hastily pulled on his boxers and undershirt. Garrus bolted past, still shirtless – it was rather odd to see the turian in action, out of his armor – as James followed after him toward the elevator. He threw his dog tags on as the door shut in front of them. James and Garrus shared a concerned but bemused look, and James turned to his inbox quickly as they descended. 

_[J: We just docked. Something's going on.]_

_[M: Keep me posted?]_

The elevator door opened, and James only paid the bare minimum of attention to his surroundings as he started gearing up.

_[J: You just using me for my inside information again?]_

_[M: Well, I can't use you for your body at this distance.]_

_[J: That a promise for later?]_

James felt his ears growing a little red and hoped no one else noticed. Shepard, already suiting up down in the hangar bay, would almost certainly chew him out for flirting right before a mission. But, everyone (except perhaps Cortez, but he thought James was talking to Marie _every_ time he had his Omni-tool pulled up) was oblivious to James's inappropriately timed courting. As James and Garrus finished assembling their armor, Shepard began her briefing. What little Thane had told them was _not_ good. _Fucking Cerberus._ James sealed the last piece of his armor in place and looked at Marie's last message.

_[M: Depends. You gonna tell me what's going on?]_

They piled onto the shuttle. Shepard shot James a curious look as he continued typing, and James thought he heard Esteban snicker from up front.

_[J: Cerberus. They've taken over C-Sec headquarters. That's all we know, but we're heading over now.]_

_[M: Shit.]_

_[M: Be safe.]_

_[J: I will. I promise.]_

 

* * *

 

**16 August 2186 || 01:20 PST || First Battalion Outpost, British Columbia, Canada, Earth**

"What is Cerberus doing up on the Citadel?" Anderson said, adding a curse under his breath.

"What the hell have they been doing for this whole damned war?" Marie groaned.

She had been awoken not more than ten minutes ago by all the chaos in the camp. It had already been a pretty active night. The resistance forces were preparing for a big operation at first light. But, there was something _bad_ in the air when Marie clumsily exited her Alliance-blue, military-issue tent. At first, she thought something had gone south with the evacuation. The problem turned out to be a _little_ bigger.

Anderson had flagged her over to the QEC almost immediately. Marie wanted to hit the damn piece of junk in frustration. She had been trying to use ANN channels all night, since all of the Alliance communications with the Citadel had gone dark. But, her resources were just as useless right now. The only information they had was coming from Vega and Cortez, and they had just moved out of range of the Normandy's QEC relay.

Danny ran over, panting with his shock of blond hair messed by sleep, and Marie quickly explained what was going on. She saw his face pale under the floodlight aimed on their position, as Danny realized what this meant for their current operation. Marie placed a hand on his shoulder and eyed the QEC warily, as if it would spring to life with bad news any second. They stood like that for what felt like hours as Anderson tried to get in contact with other admirals and generals around the country.

The resistance was supposed to launch an extraction of thousands of civilians in four hours, using ships donated from security firms and mercenaries. It was their biggest operation to date, but they had been relying on the Citadel to help coordinate everything. Some of their fleet was supposed to jump through the relay at the last possible second to distract the Reapers and provide air support.

They would not get another shot at this. It would be weeks before another North American evacuation could even be attempted. How many millions of refugees would die in the time between?

Marie's Omni-tool pinged. She took her hand reluctantly away from Danny's shoulder and read the message as fast as possible.

_[Recipient: field_listserv]_

_[Sender: ANN Citadel Headquarters]_

_[Subject: URGENT BULLETIN. RED LEVEL HOLD.]_

_ANN can confirm that Councilor Donnel Udina has been killed following unsuccessful coup attempt on the Citadel Presidium. Cerberus forces fleeing Citadel. Council is unharmed._

_Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy, believed to be involved. ANN has confirmed eye-witness reports._

_CURRENT CONFIRMED CASUALTIES, ACCORDING TO C-SEC HQ:_

_250 DECASED_

_961 INJURED_

_ANN HAS PLACED A RED LEVEL HOLD ON ALL UNFILED REPORTS UNTIL CITADEL IS CONFIRMED SECURE. ALL PERSONNEL MUST FILE RELATED STORIES WITH SUPERIORS. POSTING TO SOCIAL MEDIA SOURCES IS GROUNDS FOR TERMINATION._

Marie staggered backwards. _Son of a bitch._ She instinctively turned her head to look for Andre. God, his mom was on the Citadel. She was one of Udina's advisors. He had a right to hear this from Marie. She looked to make sure that Danny was reading his own bulletin from H.Q. If it was even possible, the young E.P. had gotten even paler under the dim blue lights of the communication's tent.

"Find out how this effects the evacuation," she told him. "I've got to go find Andre."

Marie found her oldest friend over by the shuttles, in full armor with his helmet tucked under one arm. His unit must have been preparing to move out. Marie felt a prickle of annoyance – was he not going to say goodbye? – but she pushed it away.

"Do you know what the hell is going on?" Andre asked as she approached.

Marie nodded and motioned with her head for him to follow. She led him away from the rest of his squad. Priya got out of the shuttle and followed like a shadow, leading Marie to shoot a curious look at Andre. Her two surrogate parents tried to convince the kid for days to go to the evacuation point, but Priya had cried and screamed three nights straight until they finally relented.

"I got her to sit in the shuttle," Andre whispered. "And I figured if she didn't see you, it might be easier. I didn't have time–"

Marie shook her head. "It's fine. It's good. But, look, there's a problem. Cerberus attacked the Citadel. And – Andre, ANN thinks they were working with Udina."

"Son of a–"

"Look," Marie interrupted him. "It was a coup. A failed coup. Udina's dead. That's all I know right now. Andre, I'm going to do everything I can to find out about your mum, okay? I know some people on the Citadel who owe me a couple of favors. It looks like official comm channels are just coming back online."

Andre took a deep breath. Then another. "My mom would never–"

"I know," Marie said, not knowing why she would say such a thing. Andre's mother's political affiliations and level of human decency were both on a long list of things Marie did not know. It just seemed like the right thing to say. "Just give me some time to get in touch with people, alright?"

Marie walked away and pulled up her Omni-tool, glancing at an updated casualty report in her inbox.

_[512 DECEASED]_

_God damn it. Fucking Cerberus._ Marie _really_ wanted to hit something, maybe using that new combat upgrade on her Omni-tool. Instead, she sent messages to two ANN journalists – an old classmate from college and a guy she had worked at the _Times_ with – along with a C-Sec officer she dated in her early twenties for a month. Hopefully one of them would be able to find Andre's mom. Quickly.

_[SMS Conversation: James Vega]_

_[M: WTF is going on?! Just heard about the coup attempt.]_

Marie bit her lip and began to pace as she monitored the news alerts. There was nothing new coming in except updated numbers. A freelance blogger she followed on the Citadel did post some raw vid footage. Marie was about to pull it up when her Omni-tool vibrated three times.

_[J: I was there.]_

_[M: Holy shit! Can you tell me anything? Not as a reporter. This isn't my story.]_

_[J: Promise?]_

_[M: Cross my heart.]_

_[J: Cerberus sent an assassin after the Council. He put one of our guys in the hospital. Udina was in on it. Kaidan shot him when the pendejo pulled a gun on the Asari Councilor.]_

_[M: Oh my god. Are you okay?]_

_[M: Wait. Kaidan? As in Alenko? The new Spectre?]_

_[J: I'm fine. And I thought you were asking as a friend.]_

_[M: I am. It's a natural question, James.]_  

_[J: Okay, fine. Yeah. The Spectre.]_

Damn. A spectre pulling a gun on a councilor, even in the middle of a coup, was one hell of a story. But Marie meant her earlier statement. Early in the war, ANN had banned her from reporting on Cerberus activity, given what happened to Claire. It was a conflict on interest, and she would need "one hell of a reason" to post story related to the terrorist group. Now, standing on Earth and hearing about those bastards killing more innocent people only made the executive decision more infuriating.

_[M: Fuck. Tell me you took down some Cerberus bastards.]_

_[J: More than some.]_

_[M: That's my boy.]_  

_[J: Your boy, huh?]_

_[M: You got a problem with that, Jimmy?]_

James sent another message, but Marie was distracted by a different text in her inbox. It was from her ex-boyfriend, Ian. He worked for C-Sec now. She never actually expected him to respond to her inquiry about Andre's mother. Their breakup had not exactly been friendly, mostly because Ian had walked in on Marie in bed with her ex-girlfriend.

_[I: One, glad you're alive.]_

_[I: Two, now's not really the best time.]_  

_[M: One, me too. And, two, pretty please? I'm just asking you to run her name through confirmed reports. They're not releasing lists to the press yet. It's a favor for the guy who saved my life down here. Maureen Jones is his mother.]_

_[I: Fine. Give me five minutes.]_

_[M: Thank you.]_

Marie looked over at where Andre was playing with Priya. He was spinning the girl in circles by her arms, almost sending her flying into a marine who ran past in a haze of distraction. _God damn it. Don’t take away one of the few things he has left._ Marie glanced down nervously at the last message James had sent, if only to distract herself.

_[J: That title come with any perks?]_  

Marie could not help rolling her eyes. The two of them were beginning to get decidedly ridiculous.

_[M: Get your ass back here and maybe you'll find out.]_

_[M: Hey, can you ask around about something important? We're supposed to be running an evacuation to the Citadel soon. Can you still see if that's still on?]_

_[J: You're not coming, are you?]_

Marie bit at her bottom lip. When the evacuation plans were finalized, ANN offered her a position on the Citadel. She turned them down without a second thought. Marie belonged here, and that safe place on the Citadel should go to someone with a family. This war had taken everything from Marie. Her sister was dead. Most of her friends were dead. Her parents were probably dead. Marie's sanity was only intact because of her ability to report from the front lines. Without that purpose, she had nothing. She was going to stay and fight, in her own way, for the few things she had left.

_[M: No. I'm sorry. But, I know you understand.]_

_[J: No. I don't. You're not a soldier. You could be safer up on the Citadel. Why would you turn that down?]_

Marie narrowed her eyes, feeling the anger grow in her chest. Why had she even bothered to tell him about the offer, soon after it was made, if  _this_ was how James was going to respond?

_[M: Yeah, cause the Citadel seems really fucking safe right now.]_

_[M: And it takes more than soldiers to fight a war. How can you even say that? Do you think what I’m doing here isn't important?]_  

Marie felt that annoyance bubbling to the surface, rising red hot at her cheeks and the tips of her ears. _Son of a bitch._ She thought James would understand. Hell, even Andre understood. Both civilians agreed to stay on the ground. This could very well be humanity's last push, and they were going to be part of it. Marie was about to send off another angry message, but her rage caught in her throat. There was another message from Ian.

_Please, please, please._

_[I: This isn't the kind of thing I should tell you via text.]_

_Shit._

_[M: I don't think Anderson would appreciate me commandeering the vidcomm to talk to a random C-Sec officer. Just tell me.]_

_[I: Jones is on the casualty list. I'm sorry, Marie.]_

She looked over to Andre, still twirling with Priya, and felt the urge to cry. _Fuck this war. Fuck Cerberus._ Things had been going okay, for the middle of the apocalypse. And now Andre's mom was dead. And James was being a little bitch. And Marie was seriously starting to freak out about the evacuation. They should have started loading up the shuttles by now.

_[M: Damn it.]_

_[M: Thank you.]_

_[M: Hey … send me an email sometime, yeah? Fill me in on your life, when things settle down.]_

_[I: You just looking for a C-Sec source?]_

_[M: No. I've already got someone higher up that you.]_

_[I: Ha! Of course you do. I will, then. Keep me updated, too. Stay safe down there.]_

_[M: You, too.]_

Marie looked over to Andre. She knew she should tell him. She should tell him right away. It was the right thing to do. The brave thing to do.

And she could not do it. He just looked too damn happy, twirling the little girl in his arms. Even if it was false joy, a mask put on for Priya, Marie could not bring herself to disturb it. Let him have hope for a little while longer. Let him have a family for five minutes more.

She walked over to Danny instead. He was standing over by the communication tent, not far from Anderson. The admiral was an avatar of controlled rage as he talked in a low whisper to another officer. Marie stopped in her tracks. It had been a long time since she saw Anderson so worked up over something. What bad news had just come through?

Danny was the one to close the distance between them. "They're calling off the evacuation," he said in a strangled voice, and Marie felt her heart leap to her throat. 

The rage building inside her all night burned that much closer to the surface, until it could no longer be contained. Marie turned and punched the side of a nearby cargo crate. The pain was immediate, and she yelled out a strangled battle cry.

"Fucking Cerberus," she growled.

"Get your shit together, Rai Mercier," Danny said. His commanding tone caused her to snap to attention. "We need to start rolling."

Marie looked at Danny in shock. When had he gone from a scared kid, barely able to legally drink, to a damned wartime EP?

"Right. HQ be damned, this is our story now. We're spinning this to counter any recruitment efforts Cerberus has going," Marie said darkly through clenched teeth. "You good with that?"

"Hell yeah," he said with a cocky grin. Danny powered up the camera and directed it over to get some footage of the grief-stricken and angry refugees just getting the news. 

Marie clenched her fists to gather her resolve, but the action only sent pain shooting up her arm. Damn, that had been stupid. She bit down on the inside of her lip, drawing blood, before pulling her hair up into a ponytail. There was a pang of guilt, somewhere under all the rage and pain, as she looked over to Andre. He witnessed her little outburst, and he was looking over at Marie with a concerned frown. She should really, really tell him. But, with an excuse not to – in the form of the only damn productive thing she could do – Marie turned instead to join Danny.

 

* * *

 

**16 August 2186 || 11:00 GST || Embassy Level, Citadel**

 James stared as his empty inbox, reading over his last message in frustration. 

_[J: I'm sorry. But you're one of the few people I care about who's still alive. I want you safe. I'm being selfish. I don’t care.]_

Was she really that ticked off at him? Or had something happened? Marie was still listed as online, but she had been silent for close to an hour. And, to top off an excellent morning, the Alliance had stonewalled James when he tried to ask about the evacuation. A Captain eventually yelled at the lieutenant about bigger problems and ordered him "the hell out of my office!"

He would have asked Shepard to pull rank with someone, but she was still at Huerta Memorial. It did not sound like Thane was going to make it, and James felt wrong interrupting her with this. Hell, he should be able to get the information on his own. Was he really so incompetent off the battlefield? James paced in front of the vid screens in the lobby of the embassy level, wondering almost frantically who he could apply some pressure to. He kept an ear open for any more information, but all of the reports coming in over the past hour only updated the casualty numbers with a grimly steep escalation. 

Then, James heard one of the anchors finally saying something relevant, "In related news, the Cerberus attack on the Citadel appears to have interrupted a coordinated evacuation effort on Earth. We go now to ANN correspondent Marie Rai Mercier, stationed on the ground."

James jogged over to the screen and watched the vid change. Marie was illuminated by a harsh floodlight against a dark night, in an camouflage jacket and shorts. It was hard to tell with the way the image was cutting out every two seconds, but it looked like she had been crying. James felt his relief turn to panic. 

"Thank you, Amy. I'm here on the ground in – Columbia, where Alliance forces were preparing to evac – sands of colonists to the Citadel."

With another pop of static, the camera panned out to show several shuttles full of civilians. Some were crying, while others looked ready to riot. Kids dressed as soldiers – damn, they looked younger every year – were trying to placate the unruly crowd.

"For the past several days, Alliance and Resistance forces have been coordinating on an – evacuation of thousands of refugees from the – American continent," Marie shouted. Between the cries of distressed refugees and the unstable connection, it was difficult to make out every word. "However, the Cer– attack on the Citadel earlier –ning interrupted communication between ground troops and – navy ships. 

"We are receiving reports now – major evacuation site has come under attack. ANN can confirm – believes their plans or distress calls to Citadel Command were inter– Largest evacuation attempt so far during the war – cancelled. Thousands of refugees, some – traveled on foot for days, are now trapped in – camps across the country. – believes these camps are prime targets for Reaper – efforts are underway to disperse the settle– Refugees are being instructed to steer clear of – rendezvous points."

The ANN anchor was asking Marie a question as she pulled a lock of hair behind her half-gone ear. "Is the Alliance planning another evacuation in the near future?"

"–sources indicate that an evacuation in – currently considered too risky. Reaper air – swarmed over North America, cutting off supply drops and – impossible to get ships in for an evac."

"Marie, do you – just a moment. We are now receiving live footage from an Alliance outpost thirty miles outside Montreal. ANN's Mitchel Lee is on the ground."

The vid cut to a young reporter stationed on a hill overlooking the smoldering ruins of a massive refugee camp in a flat valley. Screams and gunfire cut through the air behind him.  _No._ James turned away, angry and disappointed, as the reporter yelled out his description of the Reaper's latest attack.

_[J: Just saw you on screen. I'm here when you want to talk.]_

James collapsed into a nearby chair. Marie was probably watching the same footage now. The reporter on screen started running toward a nearby shuttle as a Brute landed on the ground nearby in a fireball. He made it aboard just as the Kodiak was taking off with its portside door still open. Another young refugee was not so lucky. The Brute was closing in on him. The camera cut away rapidly and the audio gave out, but there were still a shocked silence around the lobby.

Marie had wanted people to see what was going on down there. James wondered if getting her wish would really help.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Broken Hearts Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the relative delay in updating! School's been kicking my ass lately. But, there are a few more chapters after this one already completed. I just need to go through and edit, so they'll hopefully be up very soon!

**16 August 2186 || 23:00 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

James paced anxiously across the length of the shuttle bay, finding himself unable to stop fidgeting. He was quite grateful Shepard had ordered everyone to catch some rack time before their next mission, as there was no one down on deck five to see how worked up James was. He was exhausted, but no amount of exercise was helping him sleep. He had already tried a hundred pull ups and hundreds of crunches, to no avail. Sure, the Cerberus attack on the Citadel was officially behind them. However, it had been almost twelve hours since James heard from Marie, and there were reports coming in of riots on failed evacuation left people angry and desperate. And while their ire should have been directed at Cerberus and the Reapers, it sounded like the Alliance and major governments were the main targets.

ANN stopped showing live footage, with the feed cutting out shortly after that shuttle pulled away from Montreal. Now, James was getting his healthy dose of bad news in from Alliance bulletins. Marie's communicator even cut out for a couple of hours, shortly after her time on the air, bringing a fresh wave of panic. Now she was listed as online again, but James wondered how much that meant. Marie had not responded to any of his texts.

James knew he was being ridiculous. After all, how many people were losing their lives down on Earth, not to Reapers or Cerberus troops, but to fear and anguish? What was one friend, out of touch for a few hours, compared to all that?

"Lieutenant Vega, Shepard would like to see you in the war room."

James abruptly stopped pacing at the sound of EDI's voice. "Tell her I'll be right up. And, er, thanks, Eeds."

It had taken a little getting used to, but James was  _trying_ to be nice to the A.I. His gratitude this time around was genuine, as James could not help feeling relieved at the news she brought. Maybe the crew had a new mission to head to, something to keep his mind off Earth. Maybe they had a lead on that Cerberus bastard from the Citadel. Maybe there was just  _something_ he could shoot. He jogged up to the elevator, waited impatiently for it to arrive, and then paced in the confined space the entire ride up to deck two.

The security scan was even more hellish than usual. When James  _finally_  arrived in the war room, he was surprised to only find a skeleton crew around the consoles. Whatever Shepard wanted to see him about, it did not look like a new mission was afoot. It was quite curious, however, that one Steve Cortez was waiting by the door to the communication room.

"What's going on, man?" James asked, walking around the center console.

"Dunno," Steve said. "I think Shepard's in there talking to Anderson."

"You don't think–"

Shepard stepped out of the communication room, cutting off James's expression of worry. The troubled thoughts, however, still raced through his skull. Why would  _Anderson_ want to speak with them? Was there bad news from Earth? Was there  _good_ news from Earth? He was about to ask Shepard, just as Liara entered the war room from behind them. The asari was wearing a particularly worried, no-nonsense expression. Shepard nodded in Liara's direction before briefly turning to Vega with the slightest smile upon her lips.

"Anderson wants to talk to you," she said simply.

James tried to ask the commander  _what_ Anderson wanted to talk about, but Shepard waved a hand toward the video communication room pointedly. Her brow was furrowed as she watched Liara, her mind apparently already moving on to the next problem at hand. James watched Shepard meet Liara down by the console in the center of the room, before he turned to Steve. Cortez only shrugged as James raised an eyebrow, and the young marine stepped into the vidcomm room with an apprehensive sigh.

He took in Anderson's life size hologram as the door shut behind him. It was strange, seeing someone down on Earth looking so  _real,_ so tangible, right in front of him. James was familiar with holograms, sure, but seeing Anderson made everything happening at home somehow seem less far away. The realization filled James with a certain pain, thinking about all the faceless casualty counts coming in from Earth. Thinking about the actual, unseen faces that went with those numbers. It was bad enough up on the Normandy or the Citadel. Earth, though–

"Lieutenant," Anderson said, with a slightly amused expression and a raised eyebrow.

_Oh shit._ James hastily saluted the admiral, snapping to attention. How long did he space out for?

Anderson returned the salute, a slightly smile tugging at his lips, and said, "I hear you've been selected for the ICT program. Congratulations."

James chuckled and released his salute, the tension rolling out of his shoulders. Whatever he was in the communications room to discuss, he doubted Anderson would lead into bad news with talk about the N7 program. It just wasn't the admiral's style.

"I thought you might have something to do with that, sir."

"Are you going to accept, son?"

"When all this is over – I dunno, sir. It's a lot to consider, and I don't know if–"

"You deserve this, marine," Anderson said with authority. "Shepard tells me you've proved yourself as a damn good soldier, just like you did back on Fehl Prime. I nominated you for a reason, lieutenant."

"Yeah, I – yeah, I know. I think I'll talk to Shepard about it, though. It's not something I can half-ass. Sir." Anderson nodded solemnly, though there was a faint twinkle in his eye.

James wondered if that was all the admiral wanted to discuss with him. He had to admit to being a bit disappointed, although talk about the N7 program was infinitely better than bad news. Still, knowing he might regret it, James took the opportunity to ask about Earth.

"Sir, what's the situation on the ground? We're not getting very reliable reports out here."

Anderson grimaced. "We've lost a lot of good people. The Reapers attacked our rendezvous points. All those refugees – and now I've got riots on my hands. They're dying down now, but people are angry. Can't say I blame them."

"Cerberus bastards," James muttered in frustration.

"Speaking of, there's someone here I owe for getting the word out about those damn terrorists," Anderson said.

He motioned out of the frame, and James felt his chest tighten.  _No way. She can't have actually convinced the old bastard._ It was hard to remember, again, to salute back at Anderson before he stepped off the vidcomm pad. Anderson must have noticed, because he chuckled heartily as Marie's image replaced his.

"Hey," she said with a smile. Marie had on the same too-large camouflage jacket and running shorts she had been wearing in the vid. But she now had a cut running across her face, from her left eyebrow across the bridge of her flat, freckled nose. "Sorry I didn't text you back. Things got pretty crazy here."

"Are you okay?" James asked quietly, leaning against the console. Seeing her practically knocked the wind out of him. It was a surprising physical reaction to someone he had literally only seen in person for a total of four hours.

"No. Anderson wouldn't be letting me talk to you if–"

"Are you hurt? What happened to your face?" James asked, examining her image. Aside from the cut, she looked totally intact. But there was something in her voice–

"Not physically. And I just got a bottle thrown at me. It'll heal up fine. And, if not, we'll match. So relax, Vega," she sighed. Even through the flickering blue light of the hologram, there was something warm in Marie's eyes. She was touched by his concern, although hearing about  _a bottle being thrown at her face_ hardly helped him  _relax_. "I just mean it's been one hell of a day. The old man's a big softie. Guess he figured I could do with seeing some familiar faces. I mean, the evacuation being cancelled, Andre finding out his mum's dead. She was on the Citadel. And then there's the rioting. Never thought I'd see Alliance pull their weapons on civilians."

"What?" James felt the surprise strangle the exclamation in his throat.

"Crowd control munitions. Things got pretty hot. Pretty ugly," Marie said, her voice choked. She bit down on her lower lip, considering a moment before she continued, "People are angry. They're blaming the Alliance for Cerberus's fuck up."

"Are you safe?" James asked.

Another day, he might have cared more about the misplaced ire of civilians. But now, seeing that sharp, dark line across Marie's face, he was only worried about her. However, Marie seemed remarkably calm. Maybe she was just exhausted, but her posture was not that of someone in an active war zone.

"We've relocated to a new outpost, out in the middle of nowhere," Marie reassured him. "Most of the soldiers are gone, handling riots in one place or another. It's – disturbingly quiet."

"Your resistance fighter friend?"

"I don't know." Marie's voice broke, and she looked away to take a deep, shuddering breath. The composure fell away in an instant, and James understood why Anderson was being such a  _softie._ "He left a couple hours ago. I – I haven't even told him about his mother. I just – I couldn't–"

"Hey, that was the right call," James said.

"You think?" she asked uncertainly, wringing her hands in front of her.

"Yeah. If he's on the front lines, the last thing he needs is to be mourning," James said. "What about Priya? Is she safe?"

Marie motioned to someone out of the frame, and James felt his stomach knot when she scooped the eight-year-old girl into her arms. James had never seen what Priya looked like. Now, she reminded him painfully of April, the little girl from Fehl Prime. The little girl he could not save. Hell, the two even had the same blonde hair and confident smile.

"This is your soldier friend? The one fighting with Shepard?" Priya asked. When Marie nodded, she turned to look at James. "Did you really take down a Reaper? I think you're making it up."

Despite all of the pain of the day, James chuckled and exchanged a smile with Marie. She looked back warmly at him, and there was an understanding between them. The bravery of children. James bet it was one of the most powerful things still keeping her going.

"We just helped. It was a thresher maw that did most of the work," James said, using an overexcited voice reserved just for kids Priya's age.

Priya's eyes went wide and Marie giggled. "What, you didn't believe me, but you believe  _him_?"

"He has cool hair," the girl said matter-of-factly.

Marie burst out laughing. She was still shaking as Priya disentangled herself from Marie and skipped off the vidcomm pad.

"So, cool hair makes people trustworthy. I'll have to remember that one," she chuckled.

James felt relief flood through him. Marie looked so  _broken_ moments before, but now there was genuine laughter in her eyes. James suspected Anderson knew exactly what he was doing, after all.

"Smart kid," James quipped.

"You know, she really is," Marie said softly. She bit her lip, apparently watching Priya run off somewhere, before she turned back to James. There was something more serious in her gaze, now. "You know, I got your message. I didn't have time to respond, but – I understand. What you said, about being worried. About selfishly wanting the people around you out of the line of fire. It kills me that pretty much everyone I care about is either fighting this war or one slip up away from dying or both, and–"

"Hey," James interrupted quietly. He reached out a hand toward the projection before remembering that it was not real. His action earned him a sad smile, and James quickly corrected himself. "I also understand what you were saying. I didn't mean – what you're doing is important. Hell, no one might have even known that Cerberus was responsible for what happened on Earth, if you weren't there to report on it."

She nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I was pretty pissed off at you a few hours ago. Asshole. But, we're good now. Right?"

"Yeah," he said. The urge to just reach out and touch her returned, but James stayed his hand. "It's good to see you. In person, so to speak."

Marie nodded. "I was trying to remember, earlier, what your voice sounded like. I remembered it being kind of annoying, but–"

She trailed off with a smirk, biting the corner of her lower lip in a  _very_ sexy way.

"Uh huh. You're the one with the ridiculous British accent," he shot back. "How'd that even happen, anyway? I thought you were a colony kid."

"I am," she huffed, crossing her arms defiantly. "But my dad was British, and I went to Cambridge. My first job was in London. The accent just kind of stuck, after that. I mean, between a British accent and the generic American-sounding one from Tiptree, it was no contest. Besides, I've been told it's damn sexy."

"Eh. It's okay," James said with a shrug. "The real sexiest accent is  _Mexicano._ Everyone always seems to forget that."

"Right," Marie said, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, I'll prove it to you. Turn off your translator for a second," James said. Marie shrugged with a tilt of her head and pulled up her Omni-tool. She appeared to be fighting the urge to roll her eyes again. She raised an eyebrow expectantly at him, and James continued, " _Ahora, dime que esto no te calienta."_

Marie did that thing again where she bit at the corner of her lower lip.  _Dios mío._ She turned back on her translator, and James saw her working out what he said.

" _Tal vez_ ," she said with a shrug. The accent was all messed up, but James was taken aback at the fact that she knew any Spanish. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, though."

"Where did you–"

"Old friend from high school. Her parents were from Argentina," Marie explained. She glanced over her shoulder at someone out of frame and nodded. "I mostly learned some choice curse words, but I guess a couple other things stuck, too. Hey, Anderson's giving me a look. I think I've worn out my favor. But, is Steve there? I wanted to talk to him, just for a second."

James nodded, feeling his mouth go dry. He wanted to say something witty or just smooth, some goodbye that she would remember. He opened his mouth, hoping the words would just come, when Marie reached a hand toward him. Her hand itself disappeared, leaving a clipped image of her arm as it passed the sensor field, but he understood the gesture.

"You stay safe out there, okay?"

He extended a hand toward her image, watching as his fingers became bathed in the blue light simulating her hair. And he issued his refrain. "I will. I promise. You, too, okay?"

She nodded with a sad smile, and James turned abruptly away.

* * *

**16 August 2186 || 16:00 PST || Unknown Location, North America, Earth**

Marie watched her fingers melt through the edges of Vega's image. Damn it. With all their technology, someone should have come up with a haptic feedback system for the vidcomm. James smiled and mimicked her gesture, though. There was something oddly personal and comforting about it, even if it was not real. She felt a pang of some emotion – maybe fear – as his image disappeared. When would she get to see him next? Would she ever?

Her melancholy musing was cut off as Steve walked into view. He was smirking as his image materialized.  _Smug son of a bitch._

"Not. A. Word," Marie warned.

"Told you," he said with a shrug, crossing his arms in a cocky sort of way.

"Shut up, Cortez," she shot back.

"I'm just saying, let the record show that I was right," he chuckled. "You two totally have a thing going on."

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna have to get you back. You know that resistance fighter I've told you about?"

"The barista?"

"Yep," she said with a wry smile. "He swings your way. And he's cute. When all this is over, maybe I'll just casually ask you out to a dingy pub, conveniently forgetting that I made other plans with him."

"He did save your life. Maybe I'll humor you."

"Speaking of," Marie muttered, wringing her hands. "Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Uh oh."

"I'm serious, Steve. This is – it isn't about romantic dalliances."

"I'm telling Vega you think this is a dalliance, I don't think he sees it–"

"Steve," Marie said sternly.

"Okay, sorry. I'm listening," he said, putting his hands up deferentially.

"If you could choose, how – I have to deliver some bad news. I don't know how. I've never told someone their mother died before."

Steve blinked, taken a back by the sudden turn in the conversation. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because, like it or not, you're my friend. And the only other friends I've got right now – that I can speak to in person, anyway – are you, Vega, and a twenty-three year old kid," Marie explained.

"Vega's probably more familiar with this than I am. He led a squad, after all, and–"

"That's why I didn't ask him," Marie said. "He can try to act tough all he wants, but, even from this distance, I can tell that what happened on Fehl messed him up. I don't want to bring those memories back. You're an officer. Don't they give you training in stuff like this?"

"No. They should, but they don't," Steve said. "What happened?"

"Andre's mom was on the Presidium, and she – I'm the only one that knows right now," Marie admitted.

"Damn. I – I don't know what to tell you, Marie. I think you just have to be straight with him," Steve said. "You should talk to Anderson, though. Apparently he likes you, and I bet he'd give better advice."

She smiled a little, even though the idea of talking to Admiral Anderson about something so personal pulled at the knots twisting in her stomach. "Yeah, you're probably right. I had to ask, I – I've been putting this off all day. Sorry, I didn't mean to drag the conversation down somewhere so dark."

"It's alright," Steve said kindly. "Can I go back to teasing you about Vega?"

She groaned and threw her head back in exaggerated exasperation. "What is it about us that has you so enthralled?"

"Come on, Marie, it's cute. It's like something out of a vid," Steve laughed. "Two star-crossed lovers, forging a relationship in the midst of the worst war in recorded history, getting to know each other only through the letters they send back and forth." – Steve smirked at the annoyed expression on Marie's face. – "And there's the fact that I was right. I believe you owe me five hundred credits."

"For what?" Marie squeaked out.

"I believe your exact words were 'I'll bet you five hundred credits that I would never fall for some fucking jarhead.'"

"Well, you lose then. I wouldn't exactly describe James as a jarhead. Hell, he doesn't even have the right haircut," Marie answered matter-of-factly. She uncrossed her arms, remembering something. "Wait, I have another question."

"Yeah?" Steve's voice was apprehensive as he raised his eyebrows.

Marie took a deep breath, wondering if she should even bring it up. It would certainly end the lighthearted portion of the conversation. But, she had been wondering about this for a while. She had been wondering if her sister left her one last gift.

"Did Claire tell you to try and set me up with someone? Because she made it sound like my going to meet you was a favor to her, but now I'm thinking–"

"That she played us?" Steve said with a sad smile. "Yeah, she was worried about you. How was you meeting up with me a favor to Claire, though?"

"She was worried about you, too," Marie said quietly. "Are you – how are you–"

"I'm doing okay," Steve said, his features softening considerably. "Shepard's been helping me work through some stuff. She's – well, she's really something else."

Marie nodded. "Yeah. Sounds like she's been helping James, too. How does one person end up with so much awesome? I mean, she brokered an alliance between the Krogan and the Turian. She cured the  _genophage._ She could get away with being a total asshole, and then she turns out to be a decent friend, too. You all better live through this, because I'd sure as hell like to meet her."

Steve smiled at that. "Careful. You'll start sounding like Vega. Idiot hasn't stopped hero-worshiping her."

"Hey, if anyone ever deserved it–" Marie said, trailing off with a shrug. Her eyes flicked off screen for a moment and she sighed. "Okay, I think I'm really wearing down Anderson's patience now. This was  _supposed_ to be a quick chat. I'll catch up with you soon. You guys know where your next mission is? Wait, let me guess, you're gonna broker peace between the Geth and the Quarian."

Steve laughed. "Okay, I don't even think  _Shepard's_ that crazy. I don't know where we're heading. Normandy's in dry dock for a few hours, and then we're probably running some ops against Cerberus."

"Good," Marie said with a curt nod. "Give 'em hell, kid."

Steve gave her a mock salute. "Aye aye, ma'am. You be safe down there, okay? Don't do anything stupid."

"Yeah, well, you know me," Marie said with a smile. "But, I'll give it my best shot."

Steve's image flickered away, and Marie nodded in gratitude to the communications specialist. She started turning around to thank Anderson for his incredible act of kindness when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"I heard what you said earlier, about Jones," Anderson said. Marie turned under his grip and looked up to him. Well, at least she was saved the trouble of asking for advice. "I knew Maureen. I can talk to him, if you want."

Marie blinked, and it took her two seconds to regain her composure. "Of course. When you were Councilor," she realized, and Anderson nodded. "No – thank you, sir. Really. For offering, and for letting me talk to Vega and Cortez. But, I need to do this. He's my friend, and I should have told him as soon as I knew, hours ago."

Anderson nodded approvingly. "Okay, you want my advice?"

"Please."

"When he gets back, don't try to dance around it. Get him alone and get him to sit down. Just lead in with the truth, and don't feel like you have to say anything else," Anderson offered. "Just having you around will be enough."

Marie swallowed the hard lump in her throat.  _Of course, this is all assuming that he actually comes back from – no, don't think like that._

"Thank you, sir," she said. "Really. You – you're a mentor of Shepard's right?"

"I suppose," Anderson said cautiously, not seeing where this sudden shift in direction was headed.

Marie smiled. "I think I see where she got some of her awesome from. I'll catch up with you later."


	9. Pushing Forward

**17 August 2186 || 15:00 MST || Montana, North America, Earth**

"London?"

Marie raised an eyebrow inquisitively as she marched next to Anderson, down a row of tents and prefab units on a high plateau. She felt an uncomfortable tightness building in her throat at the city's name. Her first good years on Earth were spent on U.K. soil. She attended Cambridge for university, and her first real job was in London, working for the  _Telegraph._ To hear that the once beautiful city was under heavy fire hurt, and the fact that the First Battalion was heading there filled Marie with some mixture of excitement and dread.

London was home, but it was a home she did not want to see on fire.

"We've got a ship that will take us to Newfoundland. From there, we'll make our way to Europe," Anderson explained. "I'm not going to lie, a transatlantic flight will be risky. It leaves us exposed. And the whole of Great Britain leaves little room to maneuver. There's a unit in New York–"

"Oh no, you're not getting rid of me that easily," Marie interrupted. Anderson looked at her warily, but Marie swore there was a hint of a smile underneath his inborn bias against the press. "But, why London? Why now?"

"Something's happening there. Reaper forces are massing. We don't know why yet, but Marie–" Anderson stopped and turned to face her, just outside the communications building. "You won't be able to report our location. Hell, you probably won't be able to get out any vids. Alliance wants us to keep a tighter control on movement information, after–"

Marie cleared her throat uncomfortably and nodded. Alliance Intelligence was fairly certain that Cerberus had passed on information to the Reapers. They used the failed extraction as some kind of sick distraction. But, there was also the possibility that the Reapers gathered the data from vids, studying the movement of journalists embedded with different units. Hoping that the former was true – that a  _human_  terrorist group had willingly given up information that led to the deaths of tens of thousands – was Marie's grim reality.

"Sir, all due respect, but I'm not giving up my position embedded with the leader of the Resistance unless you order me to," Marie said confidently. "Besides, I prefer working in print."

_And maybe I can convince Danny to stay somewhere a little safer, somewhere he can transmit vids from. Damn, he really won't like that._

"Jones never would have forgiven me if I didn't try," Anderson said with a shrug.

"Wait, is he–"

"He's part of the First, so he's coming with us, yes," Anderson confirmed. "I would try to convince you to leave the kid at a refugee camp, but–"

"She'll probably just stow away on the ship," Marie finished, just the slightest hint of amusement in her voice. "Besides, there's no guarantee she would be any safer on this side of the pond."

Images of a burning refugee camp and a reporter jumping onto a departing shuttle came to mind, and Marie had to shut her eyes tight to block them out. No, she would never forgive herself if they left Priya at a camp and it was targeted by the Reapers.

"Agreed," Anderson said, and there was an understanding in his gaze when Marie opened her eyes again. She was hardly the only one who had been hit hard by the failed operation. "I'll leave the decision of whether or not Granger comes up to you. He's under your command, so to speak."

"I don't – I'm going to have to think about that one. When do we head out?"

"Probably in the next day or two," Anderson. He put two fingers to his ear as someone apparently hailed him on the communication line. "I've got to run, but get back to me on that ASAP. We're trying to put together a full flight manifest."

Marie nodded and watched the admiral march off. She let herself a moment of amusement at the relationship forming between the odd duo. Usually, military types hated Marie. She was press, and she was a particularly ruthless and insistent example of her people. She had called into question more than a few military operations in a way that made the Alliance brass squirm. To actually be befriending a damn admiral –  _the_ admiral, here on Earth – was something else.

_And then there's James. And Steve. Seriously, Mar, what the hell happened to you? Oh, yeah, a big ass apocalypse. Right._

Marie shook her head of the internal monologue, and she wandered over to the edge of the camp, looking for Andre. She broke the news about his mother when he got in early that morning, and Andre had promptly gone to sleep without giving much away. Marie expected him to be awake by now, but there was no sign of her favorite resistance fighter. She instead wandered over to the edge of the plateau the First built their camp on. Marie had never been to the middle of the United States. It was hot and humid as she imagined the deepest circles of hell would be, but there was a majestic beauty to the peaks of the Rocky Mountains. The battalion was holed up in the mountains for the tactical advantages, but their location also offered one hell of a view.

_[J: Right. So, if you ever see a Reaper-ized asari, run. Just run.]_

Marie looked at the new message in her inbox and furrowed her brow. She hastily typed up a response.

_[M: Everything okay?]_

_[J: We're alright. Just blew up an Ardat-Yakshi monastery that the Reapers took over. I'm serious, if you ever see one, get the hell away from it. Even Shepard had a hard time taking them out.]_

Marie quickly looked up the term "Ardat-Yakshi" – she hardly wanted to seem uneducated – and blanched while she read the extranet entry. It sounded like these particular asari were already tremendously powerful. The idea of adding Reaper technology to  _that_ was fucking terrifying.

_[M: Noted. Took your advice, by the way. I've started some hand-to-hand combat training with a marine here. He's an N3. Was in the middle of ICT training, on some assignment in NA, when the war hit.]_

_[J: Nice. Anderson swing that one for you, too?]_

_[J: Also, in case it wasn't clear, don't try to punch a Banshee.]_

_[M: Nope. That one was all me.]_

_[M: And no shit.]_

_[J: How'd you manage that?]_

_[M: Vega, if I walked up to you and asked for combat training – assuming you didn't know me – would you ever for a second think of turning me down?]_

_[J: Who is this marine? Maybe I need to get a message to him…]_

Marie grinned, enjoying how James was taking the bait. She stashed away her Omni-tool for a bit and just enjoyed the view, wondering how long it would take Vega to get impatient enough to pester her. She was just sitting down on the edge of the cliff when her 'tool pinged. Ten minutes. Not bad.

_[SMS Conversation: Alexander Cantor]_

Well, that was an odd coincidence.

_[A: Why is a marine on the Normandy asking me about you?]_

"Son of a bitch," Marie cursed aloud.

_[M: I mentioned I was training with an N3. You two know each other?]_

_[A: No. Why do I feel like I'm in trouble or something?]_

_[M: What did he say?]_

_[A: He just asked if I was training you. Then he warned me that, if I hurt you, he would sick Commander Shepard on me.]_

_[M: He's just screwing around. Don't worry about it.]_

Marie groaned and turned to her conversation with James.  _Well played._

_[M: How did you even do that?]_

_[J: I have access to updated Alliance records. There's only one ICT candidate stationed in the First.]_

_[M: You threatened him? With Shepard?]_

_[J: I was just kidding, Mar.]_

_[M: Isn't that insubordination or something? He does outrank you.]_

_[J: Not for long. I've been recommended for the N7 program.]_

_[J: Was just talking to Shepard about it, actually. I think I'm going to do it, when this war's over.]_

_[M: Good god, why?]_

Marie had asked Alex all kinds of questions about the ICT program, after a training session a couple days before. She had only heard a few snippets about the Alliance's special forces training in her work as a reporter. But, Marie did know the N7 designation itself was a big deal. The Alliance-trained fighters in the First talked about N7 graduates with a religious reverence, and the way they treated Lieutenant Commander Alex Cantor led Marie to ask more.

Now that she heard his stories, however, Marie figured half of Alex's details had to be exaggerated bullshit. (Hell, now that James was talking about it, she  _hoped_ it was bullshit.) It just sounded way too intense for a military to put their own people through. She might expect something like that from the Turians or the Krogan, but not the Alliance. Marie could not imagine anyone willingly putting themselves through it, especially not after the war.

_[J: It's a big deal. Best military training you can get.]_

Marie shook her head, remembering how she had once considered joining the Alliance. It would have been a way to get off Tiptree, if she could not get a university scholarship. Then, she learned about basic training, and a sixteen-year-old Marie threw all of her energy into making sure that scholarship came through. Running, jumping and generally going through hell for the sake of unit cohesion was not something that interested her. To think of Vega subjecting himself to the Alliance's most brutal form of  _that_  was mind boggling.

_[M: For the record, I think you're insane. But, congratulations. I know that's a really big deal.]_

_[J: Didn't know your favorite marine was such a hot shot, huh?]_

_[M: Who said you're my favorite marine?]_

_[J: Anyone ever tell you you're impossible?]_

_[M: If I end the day without hearing some variation on that, I screwed up.]_

Marie was startled as a shadow fell across her. Andre was standing at her right, looking out over the plains. She motioned for him to sit, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes.

_[M: Hey, I've got to go. No more threatening Alex, though.]_

_[J: No promises.]_

_[M: Now who's the impossible one?]_

She powered down her Omni-tool and looked over at Andre as he sat. "Did you sleep at all?" she asked quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He shook his head and looked off into the distance. "Marie, after you found out about Claire, how did you – it seemed like you were able to put it behind you pretty quick. You coped. How?"

"I didn't," Marie said darkly, removing her hand from his shoulder and looking toward the horizon herself. "I haven't processed it. I don't have the energy. When this war's over, then I'll mourn."

She decided not to mention the nightmares, the ones where Claire was clawing at a red hololock as the air was vented from the room.

"I don't think I can do that," he said quietly.

Marie inched herself closer and put an arm around Andre's waist. She rested her head on his shoulder and took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. She was never very good at  _this._ At people. Sure, Marie could interrogate the hell out of a subject for a piece, getting every last detail and being as beguilingly manipulative as needed. But relationships – friends and family – they were a mystery, especially in their darkest moments.

"I'm here for you," she finally said, deciding it sounded alright. "You know that, right? Any time you wanna talk."

She felt him nod as he placed his head against hers. "It just seems so unfair. I mean, it wasn't Reapers. It was a power struggle. Up on the Citadel. She should have been safe. I never even thought – it never occurred to me that she wouldn't be safe. I had been worrying about how she – well, how she was going to yell at me when the evacuation was finished and she learned I stayed behind."

"She would be proud of you," Marie said quietly.

She knew it was a hollow platitude. Marie did not even know Mrs. Jones. Maybe Andre's mother really would have been nothing more than selfishly furious at the end of the war. But, looking at her son, that seemed unlikely.

"I haven't even asked. Your folks–"

"No one has any info on Tiptree," Marie said. "The colony's just gone dark. It could be that the comm buoys are just destroyed, or– I mean, there's no reason for the Reapers to hit it. There's a little bit of mining, but it's mostly farms. People who just wanted to live out in the wilds, forging their own path. I'm sure they're fine."

"Yeah," Andre agreed. Marie could tell, though, how little he was persuaded by her self-deception. "So, wanna talk about something else?"

"Yes, please."

"What are you going to do, when the war's over?" Andre asked.

Funny. Marie had not even allowed herself to think about it.

"I'm taking a long ass vacation. Maybe visiting some of those places I always wanted to go, if they're still intact," she said wistfully.

"Like?"

"Australia. The Outback. I've never been. Maybe Nepal, too. And Thessia. I've always wanted to go there. It looks so beautiful, and you can't beat the Asari when it comes to cultural treasures," Marie mused. "Yeah. I'll work for a bit more. Take down war criminals and other assholes. Then I'll take six months off."

"You gonna spend those six months with anyone?"

"You're welcome to come along."

"Not what I meant," he teased.

Marie bumped him playfully with her hip. "Hey, I'd want you to come. You and Priya. A family vacation. And then, after, I don't know. Keep working, I guess. What about you?"

"Family vacation," he repeated thoughtfully. "I like the sound of that. I'll let you plan it. I'll be too busy getting the coffee shop back up and running."

"Good. I've never had a better cappuccino," Marie told him. "And the world would be a sadder place without you behind the bar."

* * *

**18 August 2186 || 19:00 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

James sat at the table in the Mess. Kaidan and Joker were reminiscing about an old mission, but it was hard to pay attention. James and Marie were having another one of their games of questions, causing both soldiers to shoot curious glances in James's direction every time he pulled up his Omni-tool. He should probably just put it away. Shepard was already giving him a hard enough time, after that stunt Anderson pulled. Yeah, James figured the admiral really was trying to be kind. He seemed to have a soft spot for Marie. But, James also suspected Anderson found embarrassing James to be an amusing form of distraction.

_[J: First time you ever got in serious trouble?]_

_[M: Never happened.]_

_[J: Oh come on.]_

_[M: I was never too stupid to get caught. What's your story?]_

_[J: I was nine. My tío caught me with some strong, cheap vodka I was trying to smuggle to a party.]_

_[M: When you were nine?]_

_[J: I grew up with a rough crowd.]_

James cringed as he typed it out. He should have lied and chosen something else, even though the two of them had sworn to be totally honest during these rapid fire volleys. But, Marie grew up on a damn farm. Her parents were probably wholesome, conservative types. James came from a totally different world, and talking about his childhood – or his lack of one, anyway – was only going to make that abundantly clear.

_[M: So did I … but I still was probably eleven before I had my first drink.]_

_[J: I have a hard time believing the kids in Wisconsin could really be considered rough.]_

_[M: Milwaukee wasn't a fun place for the kid of two dry dock workers.]_

_[J: I thought your parents were farmers.]_

_[M: After they moved to Tiptree, that's what they did. Well, they were miners first. Then they saved up enough money for a farm. But it was all to escape where I grew up. The colonies gave us a shot Earth never would have.]_

_[J: I didn't know that.]_

_[M: I don't like to talk about it much. People would give me a hard enough time at university about being from a colony. If they knew I spent a good part of my childhood in a shoebox studio apartment, sleeping on a couch in the Neon District, I really would have been marked as an outsider.]_

_[J: Neon District?]_

_[M: Underbelly of the city. The Milwaukee you see in the damn tourism vids is built on top of the old city. That's where we lived. It's like the wards on the Citadel. No natural light, anyway. The wards are actually a lot nicer.]_

James frowned at that. Growing up, even he had been within walking distance of a beach and some fresh air. This image of Marie, a tiny girl in the middle of a dark slum, was at odds with her public image. After all, she graduated from Cambridge and had one of the most annoyingly posh accents he had ever heard. But, it explained some things too. After all, his favorite reporter was rough around the edges with a resume of stories on industrial exploitation and economic injustice. He had been reading through a backlog, tracing her career in his free time.

_[J: That's why you became a journalist, isn't it?]_

_[M: Yeah. I knew what it was like, not having a voice. Watching the world go to shit around you, and being totally helpless. I could speak up for them.]_

_[M: Why'd you become a soldier?]_

_[J: Pretty much the same reason.]_

_[M: And look at us now. Two little nobodies, now a war hero and a vid star. Fucking ridiculous.]_

James smiled, feeling a certain warmth in his chest. He had been thinking of their childhoods as a schism, with James on the wrong side of the tracks. But, even if Marie could not relate to having an abusive drug addict for a father, she hardly had it as easy growing up as James once imagined. Perhaps it was odd to be happy about something like that, but Marie was right. They had been forged in fire and come out the other side pretty damn impressive, all things considered.

_[J: Okay. My turn. Even if you never got caught … what did you do as a kid that should have gotten you in trouble?]_

_[M: Wait. I have a serious question. We were talking about Tiptree and … That hotshot pilot of yours has family there. He hasn't heard anything, has he?]_

_[J: I didn't know that. Have you talked to him?]_

_[M: No. I don't know him. But Tiptree's a small place. My mom went on and on about the injustice of it all when he was arrested a few months back. And you're evading my question.]_

_[J: Not on purpose. Hold on. I'll ask. He's right here.]_

"Hey, Joker, you got family on Tiptree?" Vega asked. He must have interrupted them mid-story without even realizing it, because Kaidan shot James a confused look.

Joker, however, just blanched. His deer-in-the-headlights expression was hardly reassuring.

"Why do you want to know?" Joker asked defensively.

Kaidan was still looking curiously at James as he explained, "I'm talking to a friend. She's from Tiptree. Rai Mercier. You ever hear of her?"

Moreau rolled his eyes. "Yeah, cause all us colony kids know each other."

"She's heard of you," Vega said with a shrug, causing Joker to perk up with some mixture of pride and curiosity. "I told her I'd ask if you heard anything from back home."

That caused Joker to shift uncomfortably in his seat. "Nah, I – there's rumors of the Reapers hitting the system. And there's a classified report of some Asari commandos being nearby. But, if the colony was actually – the Alliance would be in charge of evacuations at Tiptree, and they've got nothing. You – you probably shouldn't tell her all that. I mean, it's just speculation."

James nodded and turned back to his Omni-tool. "Yeah," he agreed half-heartedly. "Besides, she's probably seen the same reports."

_[J: Sorry. He's got nothing.]_

_[J: And you're the one evading my question.]_

_[M: Damn. I was hoping you hadn't noticed. … I stole a shuttle, once. That was probably the most impressive stunt.]_

James laughed aloud before he could stop himself. He looked up sheepishly to see Joker raising an eyebrow in his direction as Kaidan shook his head with a smirk. Then Steve walked over at the  _perfect_ moment.

"What'd she say?" he asked, leaning against the table nonchalantly with a mug of coffee.

"Who says I'm talking to Mar?" Vega shot back.

"Come on, Vega," he scoffed.

"So this Tiptree girl is the same one Shepard was teasing you about," Kaidan observed. "You know, as a superior officer, I feel obligated to warn you that cozying up to the press doesn't usually end well."

James wanted to tell Kaidan to stuff it, but – even in the informal atmosphere Shepard allowed on her ship – he knew better. Instead he grunted and started to ignore them, just as Joker was expressing surprise that a reporter could even get through the Normandy's communications firewalls.

_[J: From who? And why? And how did you not get caught?]_

_[M: It was a cargo transport. We had a tradition to out-dare each other during senior week, right before graduation. So, someone dared me to steal a shipment of cheap beer. I should've said no. Could've gotten my whole damn scholarship taken away.]_

_[J: So why'd you do it?]_

_[M: Because I was seventeen and stupid. Is there usually another reason?]_

_[J: You were about to leave. You didn't need to impress them.]_

_[M: True enough, but I didn't know that. I think there was a part of me that never really believed I would escape. And then I almost turned that doubt into a self fulfilling prophecy.]_

_[J: How'd you stay out of trouble?]_

_[M: I didn't exactly. Had a teacher who really liked me. He doubled as a volunteer cop. That was the way things ran on Tiptree. Anyway … he busts me after five minutes. Pulled me over. I can still remember feeling my heart in my chest, banging against the harness. I thought about running, but the shuttle was way to slow too make it. I thought I was so screwed. Mr. Kelpak just tells me to ditch the shuttle, grab a case, and keep on walking.]_

_[J: He let you go?]_

_[M: He knew anything official would screw me over, and I know he was really rooting for me. Wrote one of my recommendation letters for university applications. Showed it to me after I graduated. Still the nicest damn thing anyone's ever said about me.]_

_[J: But he let you take a case?]_

_[M: Haha yeah. Looking back, I think he found the whole thing pretty funny. He was pretty young. Hell, he was probably younger than we are now.]_

_[M: I wish I had kept in touch with him.]_

_[J: I'm sure they're fine, Mar. We would have heard something if they weren't.]_

_[M: Yeah, I know. If that Moreau kid hears anything … will you tell me?]_

_[J: Of course.]_

_[M: Damn. I have to go. We're about to head out over here. Don't worry. Just relocating.]_

_[J: Stay safe.]_

_[M: I will. I promise.]_

James powered down his Omni-tool, which Steve took as an invitation to start nagging. "So, what was so funny?"

"Did you know Mar stole a shuttle full of  _cerveza_ when she was seventeen?"

Steve chuckled. "No, but it doesn't surprise me. Claire told some  _interesting_ stories, back in basic."

"Oh? Man, the more I talk to her, the stranger she gets," James said.

It was not a disparaging comment. Marie was a good strange. A ballsy strange, like Shepard. Hell, if the two ever met, they would become best friends or pull each other's hair out.  _Come to think of it, the second option would be pretty hot._

"So, what am I missing?" Joker asked. "Who is this Tiptree reporter girl?"

"Long story short," Steve started, cutting off James. "She's the sister of an old friend. Marie's sister, Claire, was in basic training with me. Claire and I stayed in touch, even though she went into R&D. We all ended up stationed on the Citadel together a couple times, so I got to know Marie a bit, too. Man, we had some  _crazy_ nights down in the wards. Anyway, a couple days before the Reapers hit, I set up Marie and James. Now they text each other like a couple of teenagers."

"Hey, half the time she's pestering me for details on one story or another," James insisted. " _Chica's_ relentless."

"So, how  _is_ she getting past the Normandy firewalls? Non-Alliance messages are routed through a special V.I. There should be an hour wait between each of those texts," Joker said skeptically. "If you hacked into our systems, EDI's gonna be pissed. I mean, she'll also be really freaking surprised. Impressed, even, but–"

"Miss Rai Mercier is embedded with the First Battalion of Alliance resistance forces," EDI explained, her voice piping in from a speaker above the table. The reminder of her constant presence was a little disorienting. EDI usually joined in on conversations only when her physical body was present. "She has full security clearance, and Admiral Anderson has given her direct access to communicate with the Normandy. She has used this access to pass on stories that ANN did not want published, which were helpful in building Resistance war assets."

Joker let out a low whistle. "She's embedded on Earth? Man, that's rough. And Vega and her–"

"Barely know each other," James said, rolling his eyes. The lie hurt a bit to say, but he was  _really_ ready to move on to a different topic of conversation.

"Yeah, but I see you on that Omni-tool lately more than I see you working out. I didn't think it was physically possible for you to spend more time on  _anything_ but yourself," Steve teased.

"Lieutenant Cortez is correct," EDI said. "In the past week, you have logged only twenty hours physically conditioning yourself. You have spent twenty three hours communicating with Miss Rai Mercier."

"Thanks, EDI," James groaned, as the guys around him smirked and tittered. He stood up and cracked his neck, taking pains to glare at a particularly gleeful looking Steve. "You know what? Speaking of physical conditioning, I'm heading down to the shuttle bay. Joker, what's our ETA to the Citadel?"

"I dunno. It'll be a few hours. Shepard and EDI are searching for some artifacts," he answered with a shrug. "I swear, you'd think they  _like_ probing random planets."

"We have found several useful items, as well as fuel and resource reserves, Jeff," EDI scolded. "If you would like us to run out of fuel on our way to the Quarian Fleet, however, we can turn to other activities."

"Yeah, word of advice, if she's anything like EDI, keep Marie at arm's length. The nagging's not worth it," Joker quipped.

"I'll keep that in mind," James said, turning and waving over his shoulder. He was getting really tired of the third-degree. "I'll catch you guys later."

"Tell Marie I say hi!" Steve called after him. James only replied with a rude gesture in his general direction.


	10. Friendly Fire

**19 August 2186 || 00:30 NDT || Newfoundland, Canada, Earth**

_[M: What's this I'm hearing about a living Prothean being spotted on the Citadel? With Shepard?]_

Marie switched back to the blog of a Citadel freelance journalist she often followed. Normally, she would dismiss such a ridiculous claim without a second thought. But, with all of the other craziness going on, Marie was willing to believe practically anything. Besides, this particular blogger was normally very reliable.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" – Marie turned toward the sound of Danny's voice. He was walking toward her with a concerned expression. – "We have to be up in, like, five hours."

"So what are you doing awake?" Marie shot back, feeling an almost maternal stab of protectiveness. She had been unable to convince Danny to stay in North America, much to her dismay. But, Marie figured she should at least be able to convince her EP to get a decent amount of sleep.

Danny sat down and poured Marie a cup of hot tea from an Alliance-blue thermos. "I'm taking care of my boss."

"Thanks. But, I'm not much of a boss at the moment," she muttered. "Total embargo. What a load of crap. I know better than to write anything that would give away troop movements."

"The Alliance will let up once we get to England," Danny said confidently. "With everything that's happened, though, moving Anderson so far has them on edge. At least they're still letting us hang around."

Marie made a low noise of assent and took a sip of tea. The drink burned her tongue, and tea was out of place on such a muggy night, but she took another sip anyway. She just needed something for her hands to do, until her Omni-tool pinged.

_[J: Are we on or off the record here?]_

Marie smiled and looked over at Danny. "I've got company now, Granger. Go get some sleep. That's an order. Or something."

Danny snorted but obeyed, shaking his head all the way back to the tents. He had sided with Andre in finding Marie's relationship with James quite amusing. Marie would be annoyed, but Danny's ability to make fun of her came as a relief. At the start of the war, Marie was originally worried that the young EP had a crush on her. It was not really the violation of professional ethics that concerned Marie, though. It just would have made her  _unusual_ relationship with James all the more awkward. But, it turned out that Danny was either very professional or just not interested. Both possibilities worked in her favor, at least for the moment.

_[M: Off. Not really my jurisdiction.]_

_[J: You remember the first time we hit a Cerberus raid? On Eden Prime?]_

_[M: No, but … you found a Prothean?!]_

_[J: Yup. He's called Javik. Was in cryostasis, until Shepard woke him up. He's fighting with us.]_

_[M: That's quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.]_

_[M: What's he like?]_

_[J: Honestly, he's kind of a prick.]_

Marie chuckled. If only Claire was around. She would have a fit. In life, Marie's sister was fascinated by the Protheans. The extinct architects of the mass relay filled Claire's games of make believe as a child, and then they became the subject of her life's work. Looking back, it was always obvious that Claire would end up in archeology, even if she took a rather roundabout way to get there. She enlisted with the Alliance at eighteen, her grades too low to score a university scholarship. It was not that Claire was dumb. She was fucking brilliant, easily one of the smartest people Marie had ever known. She just fell in with a bad crowd after Marie went off to university. Claire then vowed to be a pilot, but the harsh realities of flight school knocked that idiotic notion out of her head. So, she ended up working in an Alliance lab instead, and it eventually led her back to the Protheans when the Alliance started taking the Reapers seriously.

Marie considered telling James some of that, but her fingers halted above the haptic feedback range of the keyboard. As she told Andre earlier in the week, Marie had yet to cope with Claire's death. It was filed away somewhere, to mourn over when the war was through. At least, Marie hoped she would make it that long. There were too many ways in which a breakdown now could get her killed.

_[M: That's some great irony. The universe has one hell of a sense of humor.]_

_[M: So, what are you up to today?]_

_[J: Rescuing some Cerberus defectors.]_

_[M: Why?]_

_[J: They can help the Alliance. And they're not bad people.]_

_[M: They're Cerberus.]_

_[J: Defectors.]_

_[J: Mar, even Shepard worked with Cerberus. To take down the Collectors. The Illusive Man's gone off the deep end, but that doesn't mean everyone's just as loco. Or evil.]_

_[J: After what happened on the Citadel, it sounds like a lot of people are realizing their mistake.]_

Marie was unconvinced, but she decided to drop it. Cerberus was a terrorist organization. They always had been. Anyone who had been working with them instead of the Alliance for even part of this war had a messed up set of priorities.

She was not biased by the fact that they killed her sister. And Andre's mother. Not at all.

_[M: Whatever. After that?]_

_[J: Sounds like we're trying to get the Quarians on board.]_

_[M: Good. We could use their fleet.]_

Marie almost instinctively switched to an extranet window, to run a search on the Quarian. It suddenly occurred to her that the biggest fleet in the galaxy had been strangely absent from recent reports. There could be a story in the silence. However, Marie's automatic switch into journalist mode was interrupted by a text from someone else.

_[SMS Conversation: Steven Cortez]_

_[S: Hey? Do you have a minute to talk?]_

_[M: Of course. Everything okay?]_

_[S: Do you remember when you met Robert?]_

How could she not? It was almost four years prior, when Marie was still stationed on the Citadel. Claire came to visit for a few days. At the same time, some of Claire's old friends from basic training were on shore leave, including Steve and Robert. Claire convinced Marie to come out with them for drinks at Purgatory, and the night quickly devolved. Marie woke up in bed with an ANN reporter from the vid side, leading to six months of pure awkwardness during random encounters in the elevator. She had never  _quite_ forgiven Steve for daring her to try that shot of watered-down ryncol, and Claire had never again convinced Marie to come out with the boys.

_[M: I remember the first couple hours.]_

_[S: Ha! You know, he really liked you. Wanted to set you up with a friend of ours in the unit.]_

_[M: What happened?]_

_[S: You went home with that chick from Entertainment Tonight. Or did you totally forget that bit?]_

_[M: That was your fault.]_

_[M: You know, she's married to that vid star, now. The one who was in the latest Blasto movie. All things considered, I'd say I did alright.]_

_[M: Anyway … are you okay?]_

_[S: Yeah. I think I just wanted to talk to someone who knew him. I left a picture of him at this wall on the Citadel, a memorial the refugees set up. I think I'm finally ready to move on, but…]_

_[M: Part of moving on is being able to look back at the happy memories.]_

_[S: Yeah.]_

_[M: I remember really liking Robert. You, not so much. But he just seemed like a genuinely good guy. And he was funny. I think he made me spit out my drink over an asari dancer at one point. I don't know. Everything's kind of fuzzy.]_

_[S: Oh my god. I forgot about that. She was pissed. I thought she was going to get us thrown out.]_

_[M: Oops.]_

_[S: That was the last time we saw each other before Vancouver, huh?]_

_[M: Yeah. I have to confess, Claire invited me to hang with you guys a few times over the years. But … I always found some reason not to.]_

_[S: Why?]_

_[M: Because I'm really bad at knowing my limits, as you learned. You're a dangerous influence, Steve.]_

_[M: But, I'm glad I eventually changed my mind.]_

_[S: Me, too. I think this would have made Claire happy. Us being friends.]_

_[M: Yeah. She was always trying to stitch all the parts of her life together. Make everyone get along. I hated it, when we were kids. Now I just wish I'd gone along with it more.]_

Marie was jealous, when they were kids. Claire never had a hard time making genuine friends, while Marie always felt like she was just pretending. Their sibling rivalry was almost unbelievably like something out of a sitcom vid. Marie hated Claire for her popularity, and Claire was always annoyed at how easy academics were for Marie. It was part of the reason they drifted apart as teenagers, even as the two of them proved remarkably similar in their interests later on.

Whatever chance there was of reconciliation and bonding, however, was long gone.

_[S: You okay?]_

_[M: Let's just say I'm not where you are. Not yet. It's still raw. Can we talk about something else?]_

_[S: I can tease you about Vega.]_

_[M: Why am I friends with you again?]_

_[S: Because I'm generally awesome.]_

_[M: Nah. I think it's just you being on the Normandy. You're a good source. Once this war's over, I probably won't have much use for you.]_

_[S: Jerk.]_

_[S: So, about Vega ... he's totally pissed that you're texting me instead of him.]_

_[M: Ooh. I just found another use for you.]_

_[S: Making him jealous? Sorry, Marie, but I don't really see you that way.]_

_[M: Ha. Ha. Seriously, though, teasing him is one of my new favorite past times.]_

_[S: It is pretty fun. A little too easy sometimes, though.]_

_[M: Somebody's gotta keep that oversized head from getting too big.]_

_[S: A public service. I like your way of seeing things, Rai Mercier.]_

* * *

**21 August 2186 || 17:00 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

James cracked his neck as the elevator door opened onto the shuttle bay. He came from the cockpit, where James watched the events on the Geth dreadnought alongside Joker and Garrus. The whole affair left the marine buzzing with anger. Those  _pendejos_  fired on Shepard. On Tali'Zorah and Liara. They couldn't wait five freaking minutes. Their bloodthirsty impatience was infuriating. If the Quarians killed Shepard, they could have lost the whole damn war right then. The only consolation was the particularly satisfying sight of one of the admirals limping out the airlock back to his ship. James was about sixty percent sure that Shepard sucker punched the bastard.

James was about to recommend that he and Steve get  _very_ drunk while Traynor tried to pin down Admiral Koris's crashed ship, regulations be damned. But, from the look on Steve's face as he approached the elevator, there was only more bad news to come.

"You need to talk to Marie," he said. "I told her about the Quarians and the Geth. Figured she'd get all weirdly excited, getting the scoop on a story like that. Going to war with each other instead of helping the fight, I mean. That's like Christmas for her. But, she just ignored me. Something's up."

James groaned and ran a hand over his skull.  _This day just keeps getting better and better. First the Reapers are helping the Geth. Then Shepard almost dies. And now this, whatever the hell this is._

"Yeah, alright," James agreed, walking over to his corner and pulling up his Omni-tool.

_[J: You okay?]_

Marie was listed as online, but there was no response. James started pacing. Then, he lifted some weights. When a full half hour went by and he was really starting to sweat, James became worried.

_[J: Mar. Come on, we talked about this. Just let me know you're not dying or something.]_

_[M: Not now. And I'm physically safe.]_

James frowned. She might not be in physical danger, but it still sounded like something was wrong. Her addition of the word "physically" was suspicious, as if she was mentally unsafe.

_[J: What happened?]_

_[M: Not now.]_

_Damn it._ James was usually the one stonewalling  _her._ Being on the receiving end was decidedly unpleasant.

_[J: Marie Rai Mercier. Tell me what the hell is going on.]_

_[M: No.]_

James angrily shut down his Omni-tool, his rage at a select few quarians bleeding into this particular exchange. He was not mad at  _her,_ not exactly. He was more frustrated about being light years away, unable to do anything to make her talk. Shepard was  _probably_ not in the mood for James to commandeer the vidcomm, after all.

"She's evading you, too, huh?" Steve called over from the procurement console.

James walked over and stood across from the pilot, replying sullenly, "I don't like this. Something really bad must have happened."

"I wonder – you don't think someone on the ground got killed? That resistance fighter? Or that reporter? Or–"

 _Priya._ James hated to admit it, but this level of response from Marie might very well be because something that terrible happened. He wanted to keep pushing her, but Marie's curt "no" seemed pretty final. It was hard enough to maintain a relationship via text. James figured he should try not to break it with one.

_[J: Okay. Look, when you're ready to talk, I'm here.]_

* * *

**22 August 2186 || 09:00 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

_[SMS Conversation: Marie Rai Mercier]_

_[_ _ **Monday, 19:03.**_   _You have to admit, Lola's pretty loco. I mean, she's trying to end a war between the quarians and the Geth, just to get a fleet. As if curing the genophage wasn't enough, right?]_

_[_ _**Monday, 19:21.** _ _You know, I've got some pretty juicy details on what happened. It's quite the story.]_

_[_ _**Monday, 19:45.** _ _The Quarian fired on a Geth ship, while Shepard was still on board disabling some Reaper tech.]_

_[_ _**Monday, 20:25.** _ _You could even use me as an on-the-record source for all this.]_

_[_ _**Monday, 21:00.** _ _Lola punched one of the admirals. In the stomach. EDI told me.]_

_[_ _**Monday, 21:15.** _ _Huh. I thought that one would really get your attention.]_

_[_ _**Monday, 21:16.** _ _Totally true, by the way.]_

_[_ _**Monday, 22:30.** _ _Do I need to bug Anderson? Cause I'll do it.]_

_[_ _**Monday, 23:03.** _ _Damn it, chica.]_

_[_ _**Today, 00:12.** _ _You know what? Fine. I have to catch some rack time. I'm in the middle of a warzone right now, by the way. A giant fucking firefight between the Geth and the Quarians. Thought you ought to know.]_

_[_ _**Today, 01:20.** _ _I'm sorry. That was out of line. We're okay. The Normandy's stealth drives are damn good.]_

_[_ _**Today, 03:44.** _ _Can't sleep. You awake?]_

_[_ _**Today, 05:30.** _ _Come on.]_

_[_ _**Today, 09:00.** _ _Damn it, Mar. Now you're really starting to scare me. Look, I have to go. We're dropping onto Rannoch. Don't do anything stupid down there, okay?]_

* * *

**22 August 2186 || 06:00 BST || Islington, London, Earth**

Andre caught Marie's eye and climbed angrily out of the shuttle. "Oh, hell no. You are not coming with us."

"Anderson just gave the green light," Marie said, shifting the camera tucked under one armored arm. "So, yes, I am."

"This is bullshit, I'm going to–"

"We need to head out. Now," the shuttle pilot called out.

Marie stepped past Andre and climbed into the shuttle. "You coming, soldier?"

Andre glared at her the whole way into the city, as Marie looked intently at her Omni-tool. She was, unnecessarily, adjusting the camera's software. She would probably do nothing but mess up the framing algorithms, but Marie needed something to focus on. As soon as she stopped, the vivid images her mercilessly active imagination kept conjuring of Tiptree would come flooding back.

_She felt the bile rise in her throat and stumbled back, the Omni-tool's screen unyielding in how it followed her crash to the ground._

_No. God damn it, no._

_[YELLOW ALERT. HUMAN COLONY TIPTREE UNDER ATTACK BY REAPER FORCES. CURRENT REPORTS INDICATE NO SURVIVORS. ASARI MILITARY SOURCES CONFIRM FAILED EVACUATION ATTEMPT. ALL MILITARY FORCES RETREATED.]_

_Four sentences. Four sentences that told her she was alone. Even as she read them over again, Marie realized she had already known. She had already assumed that her parents were dead. So, why did it hurt so badly? Why did she want to go running out into the streets and throw herself into the crossfire?_

_Andre saw her fall to the ground from across the camp and ran over. He was asking her something. Yelling at her. But, his words only added to the ringing in her ears. How long had it been, since she'd talked to them? Weeks? Months? It wasn't like they were a close-knit family._

_So why did it hurt so much?_

"Approaching the LZ. Good hunting."

Marie snapped her head up. She had spaced out for the whole ride into London. She climbed out onto the street with the unit and winced as she recognized their location. Well, she thought she did. The whole block was leveled, but the unusual shape of the intersection looked right. There had been an ancient, narrow bar to her left, where a crater now carved into the cobblestone. Marie would frequent it with coworkers, when she was working for the  _Telegraph._ It had been a cozy place. Couldn't fit more than twenty people inside.  _The Four Horsemen,_ she remembered. They served a great curry.

She shook her head and powered up the camera, as the sound of a Reaper's laser could be heard in the distance. The unit commander, a Major Coats, was flagging them forward down Farringdon Road. The rubble-strewn block was abandoned and eerily silent. Sky cars were crashed in the middle of the road, and a nearby building was on fire. But, there were no people. No survivors.

No Reaper forces either, at least for the moment. Marie kept her gun at her side, finger off the trigger, as the camera followed with a low whirring noise behind. The N3 she was training with, Cantor, insisted on Marie carrying an old Avenger around whenever she was outside the camp. Marie was still a pretty lousy shot, but having it at hand  _did_ make her feel safer. She walked quickly in the middle of the fifteen-man unit, Andre at her side. He was still shooting worried glances over at her every thirty seconds.

"Hey, focus on the perimeter," she whispered. "I'm fine."

"Like hell you are," he whispered back.

They were not being as quiet as they thought, based on the look Coats shot in their direction. "We're approaching the signal," he said in a low voice, only audible over their in-ear radio channel. "Stay alert."

A moment later, the unit came to an abrupt halt when three people darted out into the street, hands above their heads. Two men and a woman, all looking as if they had not changed clothes or bathed since the start of the war. There were copious amounts of fresh blood on the dingy grey button-down of a man who was yelling in a panicked voice.

"Don't shoot! We've got a kid here! He needs medical attention!"

Some of the resistance soldiers put down their weapons, but Marie noticed that both Coats and Andre were among the few who kept their guns at alert. They were not actually pointing them at the civilians, but they were still on guard. Marie understood why, even if the greener soldiers in the group were confused.  _They_ had yet to run into indoctrinated forces, but Andre had told a couple chilling stories from deployments over the past couple weeks.

"Are you the ones who sent out the distress call over an Alliance channel?" Coats asked.

"Yes," a woman answered, stepping forward slightly. "There was a soldier with us. He – he didn't make it. Please, you have to help us."

"Show us where he is," Coats called out. Then, only quiet enough for the unit to hear, he added, "Stay alert."

The civilians led them into an abandoned corner market with broken, boarded up windows. It was incredibly exposed – those boards could hardly stand three minutes of sustained attack from a Cannibal – and even Marie found herself wondering how they had lasted so long. But, her suspicions softened at the sight of the boy on the ground. He could not have been older than thirteen, and he had a compound fracture in his lower leg. Marie had never actually seen a bone sticking out of a person before, and she now hoped never to see it again. She was hardly squeamish, but Marie still had to turn away for a moment. The stench of the room – it was quite clear that no one had access to water or a toilet – did not help her nausea.

Coats still did not relax his weapon as he directed the medic on their team to help the kid. Marie pulled up her Omni-tool, to check that the camera was framing them well in the shot. She suspected Coats would try to shoot her if she started a report right now, so Marie decided to do a voice over later. It was still good footage, even if ANN might try and censor the gore.

She was looking around, trying to size up different members of the group for interviews, when a terrifying sound broke the tense silence. It was a high pitched scream, like something out of a horror vid.

"The fuck was–"

The cursing of one of the resistance fighters was cut off by the sound of a gunshot. Marie felt herself slammed to the ground, pain shooting up her shoulder at the impact, as someone fell on top of her. Her gun, only loosely held before, flew out of her hand and slid across the tile floor.

_Son of a bitch._

"Delta team, get rid of that thing!" Coats called out. "Alpha team, open fire!"

The sound of gunfire in the shop was deafening. Someone was still on top of Marie, pushing her to the floor and shielding her, although Marie could not see who it was. She tried to get up, and he pushed her back down forcefully. The room erupted into chaos, and Marie found it impossible to tell who the bodies falling to the floor beside her belonged to. Then, someone was dragging her against the wall, below a broken window where some of the boards were still intact. She was able to sit up and see Andre next to her, looking through a gap in their shoddy cover with his assault rifle drawn. Her friendly barista was gone, replaced by a calculating, professional soldier.

And then she saw  _it_  through the slats. "Tell them to get the fuck away from that thing! Now!" Marie yelled.

Her warning came too late. The Banshee brought its long fingers to a point and shot its arm through one of the soldiers, cutting through armor and flesh with a sickening noise and ripping through to the other side. It held the dying soldier in the air before flinging her to the ground like a toy.

"We need immediate evac at our coordinates!" Coats yelled over the radio, ducking down behind cover to reload a new thermal clip. "Delta team! Get back behind the wall!"

Marie heard crying coming from the other end of the room.  _The kid. Oh my god, he's still alive._ She heard a scream of anguish behind her that could only mean the Banshee had grabbed someone else.

_No. We can't die here. He can't die here. We can't leave Priya alone._

There was the sound of heavy munitions, and the Banshee gave another unnaturally high scream. The Kodiak they flew in on had arrived, and the Banshee was no match for its guns nor the marine inside working a turret. The other Reaper ground troops – mostly Cannibals, with a couple Marauders – were cut down quickly. Then, before she had time to properly react, Andre was pulling Marie toward the landing shuttle.

She tried to rip her arm free of his grasp. "Wait! That kid! He's still alive!"

Andre shook his head and someone else pushed her roughly forward, and Marie caught sight of another Banshee  _teleporting_  down the street. Marie screamed out in protest, but then the shuttle door closed behind her and they were ascending rapidly.

"We can't just leave him!" she cried angrily.

"He could have been indoctrinated, like all the others," Coats said firmly. "They're not above using children."

Marie's legs buckled underneath her, and she hit the floor with a dull thud as armor hit metal. She looked up to see that the damn camera was still following, apparently having made it onto the shuttle. The urge to smash it to a thousand tiny pieces was almost overwhelming, but she managed to instead grab it roughly out of the air and hit the manual shutdown. She slid the camera unceremoniously across the floor, and it hit the opposite wall of the shuttle with a crack.

She could not cry. Not in front of a bunch of soldiers. She had to be strong enough to deal with something like this. She  _had_ dealt with worse, all through this damn war. But, the urge to break down overwhelmed any sense of dignity or stubbornness. She curled into a ball on the floor, the weight of  _everything_ bearing down at once, and she soon felt Andre's arms around her.

"Shh. It's gonna be okay," he whispered, tucking her head under his chin. Her tears spilled over, getting trapped between her cheek and his armor. "I've got you. We're okay."


	11. Infinite Hope

**22 August 2186 || 22:00 BST || St. Mary Cray, England, Earth**

"You don't have to do this," Marie protested feebly in the communications room.

The First Battalion was set up in a school on the outskirts of London, and they were using a small counselor's office for the QEC. The dancing lights of the sensor field illuminated pamphlets and posters on bullying, and Marie found herself wishing the First had chosen  _anywhere_ else to establish a base of operations. The scenery contrasted far too harshly with the events of the morning.

"I'm aware of that, Marie," Anderson said from the doorway. He turned and gave a stiff wave over his shoulder. "Hendricks. With me."

The communications officer at the console raised an eyebrow but followed Anderson out of the room. Marie stepped aside to let him pass before turning to the QEC. She could feel her hands shaking as she stepped onto the pad. The morning's horrors still felt far too fresh, and the images flashed through her mind with disturbing clarity. The boy's broken leg. The soldier skewered on an asari's arm. The faces of the indoctrinated, looking so genuinely scared and relieved at the sight of their unit.

When James came into view, he looked at Marie in alarm. She must have appeared just as horrible as she felt, if not worse.

"What's going on?" he asked anxiously in a raised voice. "What happened?"

Marie shook her head. She was trying to find the words, but it was hard to even know where to start.

"So, Shepard punched an Admiral, huh?" she said weakly, looking down at the floor.

"Mar."

She looked up and saw the worry in his eyes, in the way he was leaning up against the console on his end. Distracting herself was worth a shot, but it was very clearly not going to work. Not tonight.

"I was out with a squad, and we walked right into a trap," Marie began to explain. She told James everything. She told him how the damn camera had survived and the boy hadn't. She told him about the soldiers who fell to the Banshee. She told him how she dropped her gun. She told him how helpless she felt. How afraid.

"And, to top it all off, I now know that my parents are dead."

A look of understanding passed across James's horrified face. Marie felt like a total asshole all day yesterday, but that had not stopped her from ignoring his messages. There was just no way to say it over a text, and she felt wrong talking to James about it at all. His mother died a long time ago, and his father was dead to him regardless of whether his heart was still beating. And he had been completely in the dark about his  _actual_ family for the entire war. She did not think he would understand. She did not think it was a fair burden to place on him.

She was happy to be proven wrong.

"I knew it had to be bad," he said softly. "But I never even considered – damn it. I wish I was there. I wish I could–"

His frustrated concern made her smile, just a little. "I know," she said softly. "But, hell, this is better than most people get these days. I'm – I'm just really–"

The end of that sentence should have been  _happy to see you._ Instead, it came out as a choked sob. She turned away and took a deep breath. No, she was not going to cry. She was putting James in enough pain, seeing her like this. He was too damn compassionate for his own good, and he would only go on some weird guilt trip about not being able to properly comfort her. She bit down on her lip, hard, and took another deep breath.

When she turned around, Marie's eyes were dry. "Tell me about this thing with the Geth," she said. "Off the record, I promise."

"Mar–"

"Humor me, Vega," she pleaded softly. "Just distract me, okay? It sounds like one hell of a story."

James made to protest again, but he brought himself up short. "You know what," he said, in a slightly mischievous voice, "I've got something better to distract you."

Marie staggered back a bit as the image of James took off this shirt. She was about to yell at him for being absolutely ridiculous and inappropriate. However, when he turned around, Marie saw the N7 tattoo on his back. It must have been new, because even James was not enough of a cocky son of a bitch to get something like before entering the ICT program.

"Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you?" she laughed. The sound was not  _quite_ right, but she was genuinely amused at his enthusiasm. "I mean – almost no one actually makes it to the N7 level. Cantor was telling me about it."

"I'll make it," James said confidently, turning around. He was smiling back at her, quite clearly happy to see that his stunt worked.

Marie looked down from his face to eye that tattoos across James's chest and shoulder. She knew literally nothing about body art, but she thought they were beautiful. Different. A lot more abstract and artistic than she would have expected some jarhead to have, but Marie knew better than to seriously think of James like that.

"I know you will," Marie said with a small smile.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Maybe," she said, shrugging in her best impression of nonchalance. "Have to say, though, I  _really_ want your commander to walk in right now. Just to see the look on your face."

"Eh. Lola's seen me without a shirt before," James said, raising an eyebrow in a challenge.

Marie bit at her bottom lip and chuckled. She tried to think of some witty comeback, but all she ended up saying was a quiet, "Thank you. I needed that."

James turned to look out of frame, and then he turned back around with a frown. "Hackett's trying to hail us. I doubt he'd be too happy being delayed by a personal call."

"Especially since Shepard and Anderson are breaking about ten different regulations right now," Marie said. "I looked it up after last time. They're – well, for military leaders, they're pretty cool. They're good people."

"Yeah," James said with a small smile. He looked down hesitantly before meeting her eyes again. "I know you don't want to hear me say it, but–"

"Don't worry," she interrupted. "I don't think I'll be going out into the field any time soon. The forces here are a lot more intense than what we saw in Vancouver, anyway. I don't think Anderson's gonna  _let_  me out again."

"Good."

Marie wanted to chastise him for being an overprotective jerk, but her heart was not in it. It had been a long time since Marie was truly paralyzed by the prospect of an assignment. Sure, a couple of her previous jobs were damn scary. She went after Batarian slavers on Ilium and volunteered to cover the revolution in the Congo last year. Both were incredibly risky assignments, but she enjoyed the challenge. Marie always fancied herself a bit of a daredevil, even if she usually left the most dangerous assignments to someone else. She remembered why, after Africa. Hell, she vowed never to cover another war. She always was quite inept at keeping promises to herself.

Now, however, for the first time since the Reapers hit, she wanted to stick that year-old oath. The idea of going back into the city now properly terrified her.

So, instead of lashing out, Marie insisted instead, "Don't go doing anything stupid, okay? I'll never forgive you if you get taken out by a damn geth."

"You got it, Mar. I – I miss you. Try to go get some sleep, and text me in the morning, yeah?"

Marie nodded, though she very much doubted sleep would find her that night. Or for a few nights to come.

"I miss you, too. Now go get the Quarians on board, take down a couple Reapers, and bring me some good news."

"I will. I promise."

* * *

**26 August 2186 || 12:30 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

As the shuttle came into the Normandy's hangar bay, James could still feel the adrenaline rush buzzing throughout his whole body. They had just gone toe to toe with a  _Reaper_  and lived to tell about it. Hell, they just brokered peace between the Quarians and the  _Geth._ James knew Shepard was mourning that one geth, Legion. It seemed like EDI, more person than machine. But, even with the losses in the final moments of the battle, they  _won_  against impossible odds. They ended a war centuries in the making, secured two fleets, and killed a Reaper.

It was a good day.

James did not even bother to take off his armor as they stepped out of the shuttle. With his Omni-tool synced back up to the QEC, he immediately sent out a message to Marie.

_[J: You are not going to believe what just happened.]_

_[J: It's good news. I promise.]_

And, damn, did they need good news. When Marie did not respond immediately, James started undoing the seals at his gauntlets. Shepard and Tali started jogging toward the elevator, and James got a wide grin from Shepard as she passed. He liked to think the quarian was smiling under her helmet, too. Hell, James started humming as he worked on taking apart his suit. He had just finished removing his last piece of armor when his Omni-tool pinged.

_[M: Well, don't keep me waiting, marine.]_

_[J: Guess who just took down a Reaper, right before brokering peace between the quarians and the geth?]_

_[J: And, you know what? You can use me as an official source on that. I'm sure it'll be all over the vids soon enough.]_

_[M: Holy shit. You're serious.]_

_[J: Yup. Summary version: there was a Reaper on Rannoch, controlling the Geth. We synced up a targeting laser to the Quarian fleet, destroyed the Reaper, and then just made all of the geth artificially intelligent for kicks or something.]_

_[M: Where does the peace bit come in?]_

_[J: Lola convinced the fleet to back down. Seriously, she just ended the war by TALKING. And the Geth never wanted to be at war in the first place, apparently.]_

_[J: Mar, it was loco. I've seen some crazy things lately, but this beat them all.]_

_[M: Well, you're right. That is good news.]_

_[J: You gonna run off to report in now?]_

_[M: No. I figure I've got a little time before word leaks out. Allers still has to run everything by Shepard, right?]_

_[J: Yeah. I'm pretty sure Lola drags her feet on purpose, too.]_

_[M: Yeah. Diana sent me an email bitching about it. So … you weren't injured in the fight, right?]_

_[J: Worried about me over there, Mar?]_

_[M: Maybe. Answer the question.]_

_[J: Nah, I'm good. Never managed to do more than take down my shields.]_

That was an absolute lie. Shepard had to revive him with a copious application of Medi-gel a couple of times when they got flanked by three of those giant Primes. But, the last thing James wanted was for Marie to worry.  _He_ was the one who was supposed to be worrying about her, with everything that happened over the past week.

_[J: How are you doing?]_

_[M: Honestly … I don't know. There's a part of me that wants to get back out there. Relax, I won't. But … I don't really have anything to do now. I've been teaching Priya how to draw. We found some crayons at this school we're holed up in. But other than that … it's not good, when I have time to dwell on things.]_

_[J: I didn't know you could draw.]_

_[M: My dad taught me. I'm not very good.]_

_[J: I have a hard time believing that.]_

_[J: And it sounds like we've got a couple days of shore leave coming up. So I'm here to talk, when you want to get your mind of things.]_

_[M: Thanks.]_

_[M: I can't even imagine … you guys get leave? In the middle of all this?]_

_[J: The ship needs some pretty serious repairs. Shepard's pissed.]_

_[J: I'm guessing there's not a whole lot of R &R on the ground.]_

_[M: No. They could sure as hell use it though. These guys … the ones that come back day after day … I can see it's starting to really take its toll. Andre's a tough son of a bitch, but he's starting to fray a bit. And yet he's still worried about me.]_

_[J: You've had a rough few days.]_

_[M: So has he.]_

_[J: It's okay to let yourself be taken care of, you know.]_

_[M: What's that mean?]_

_[J: I just get the feeling that you're always the only one looking out for yourself. You don't let people in that easily.]_

_[M: That's not true.]_

_[J: Bullshit.]_

_[M: James, if that was true, this … whatever this is … it wouldn't be happening. It would be so much easier for me to shut everyone out right now.]_

_[J: And what do you call what happened Monday?]_

James immediately wished there was an "unsend" button. His last message was pushing her too far. Marie did not need to be reminded of what happened five days ago. James fully expected her to shut down or tell him off, so her rather civilized response was pleasantly surprising.

_[M: Okay. Fair enough.]_

_[M: I'm sorry about that, by the way. I don't think I apologized before.]_

_[J: You didn't need to.]_

_[J: But you did scare me a little, Mar.]_

_[M: I know. I just knew you'd try to cheer me up. I wasn't ready for that.]_

_[M: James, can I ask you a serious question?]_

James swallowed at a nervous lump in his throat. "Can I ask you a serious question?" sounded an awful lot like "We need to talk." And those were the four most dangerous words in the English language. Reluctantly, James sent his response.

_[J: Yeah…]_

_[M: What exactly is this? Between us, I mean?]_

_Dios mío._ How was he supposed to respond to that? James knew what he  _wanted_ it to be. But, in the middle of the war, when they had only seen each other in person three times (and the majority of those times were via hologram) anything serious seemed mildly ridiculous. James must have stared down at his Omni-tool for a while, trying to formulate something intelligent-sounding to say, because Marie sent a lengthy follow up.

_[M: It's just that after everything that happened on Monday, you were the only person I wanted to talk to. I've fought beside Andre. I've worked with Danny. I've known Steve longer. But it was you I wanted. And that's really weird. But, it makes me think that maybe Steve's right. Maybe, somewhere along the way, this got serious. And maybe we should be adults and talk about that.]_

_[M: I don't know. I'm pretty bad at the whole relationship thing. What you said about me not letting people in … I've had plenty of partners. But when things get real, I usually bail.]_

_[M: I'm not doing a very good job here, am I?]_

James chuckled. He was pretty sure that, somewhere on Earth, Marie was blushing and getting flustered. The idea seemed so foreign. She may not have an Alliance rank, but Marie was a soldier at heart. He had never seen her  _flustered_ or embarrassed. Now, however, she was just being cute.

_[J: I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm with Esteban. Yeah, this got serious. And I want it to be. If you do.]_

_[M: You're not scared I'm going to ditch you?]_

They had discussed their respective relationship histories, and Marie made it pretty clear that she was  _far_ more experienced. Not only was she a couple years older, but she moved between more partners over the past couple years than James had been with over his entire life. Hell, Marie had been with an asari and a  _drell_. She had been with a vid star, which was more than a little intimidating. And, yet, her longest relationship lasted just under a year.  _That_ was the scarier part.

However, maybe James was just being naïve, but none of it mattered to him.

_[J: No.]_

_[M: Then it's settled. So do we start calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend now or something?]_

_[J: My girlfriend, the sexy reporter. I think I can work with that.]_

_[M: My boyfriend, the war hero. It has a nice ring to it.]_

_[M: Gives me something to look forward to.]_

_[J: Oh?]_

_[M: Yeah. When all this is over and I can actually see you, we'll have a lot of catching up to do.]_

_[J: I like the sound of that.]_

_[M: Good. Okay … you're going to hate me, but the clock's ticking. Think you can give me some serious details about this crazy day you're having? I should actually get back to work.]_

James groaned, earning an amused sideways glance from Steve as he climbed out of the shuttle. Marie was a ruthless workaholic. And James loved it.

* * *

**26 August 2186 || 16:00 BST || St. Mary Cray, England, Earth**

"What's got you all smiley?" Andre asked, watching Priya balance atop a fallen tree three feet ahead of him.

"Nothing," Marie shot back defensively, readjusting her grip on the stick held over her shoulder.

There were two large containers balanced on either end, meant for collecting water. Supply lines were even more unstable outside London than they had been in Canada, so clean water was at a premium. There was a stream just outside the camp, and Marie and Andre had been sent – along with a couple more resistance fighters – to get some water. At least they had proper filtration equipment, so they would not have to go through the time-consuming process of boiling it all.

Priya had started screaming bloody murder when they were about to leave. She was too smart for her own good, and Priya knew  _something_  happened the last time both Andre and Marie were gone. So, the kid was with them on their fairly dangerous errand. They had not yet seen any ground forces so far outside the city, but Priya being outside the reinforced walls of the camp still made Marie fairly nervous. She reached down to finger the pistol at her side – there were no more assault rifles to spare, to replace the one she dropped in the city – but the sidearm failed to properly reassure her.

"She's been all happy since she talked to James this morning," Priya said in a sing-song way, not bothering to turn around as she walked with her arms out for balance.

Andre looked sideways at Marie with a smirk, but he gracefully kept his mouth shut. Good. Marie was not in the mood to tell him off in front of a couple marines. It would have been embarrassing for both of them.

The marines, however, were not so keen on letting a little bit of gossip go. "James? You mean Miller? That biotic that runs with Coats?"

Marie did not even pretend to know who they were talking about. She shook her head and was going to leave it at that, when Andre quickly went from mature to annoying.

"James Vega," he said over his shoulder.

"Wait?  _The_ James Vega? One of the guys aboard the  _Normandy_?"

Marie groaned and glared at Andre. He was looking quite satisfied with himself, having known  _exactly_  what kind of reaction he would get. Even down on Earth, with access to the extranet and press reports restricted for most enlisted to conserve bandwidth, word of Commander Shepard and the S.S.V. Normandy reached the resistance fighters. Marie felt a bit of pride, no matter how irrational it was, at the way news of Tuchanka and Rannoch bolstered the troops. Those were  _her boys_ the soldiers gathered around heat dispersal units to tell stories of. But, for the past few weeks, Marie kept her mouth shut on that score. As the sole reporter in the First, she already drew enough unnecessary and unwanted attention.

_Damn it, Andre. I'm gonna get you back for this somehow._

"Yeah. He's – we're–" Marie stumbled over the right phrasing, already plotting revenge against Andre. But, hell, what was the point of making it official, if not to use the damn titles? "We're dating."

Andre raised an eyebrow at Marie's revelation, and he found it difficult to stifle a chuckle.

"Seriously?" a young female marine with a thick Boston accent squeaked.

She was a tiny, high-pitched thing, but Marie had watched the biotic Vanguard sparring. Marie did not know the black-haired girl's name, but she  _did_ know the younger woman was one of the fiercest warriors in the First. And that made her next derisive remark all the more irritating.

"Well, that explains it."

Marie turned around, whacking Andre with one of her empty containers. She had not exactly been trying to avoid him. "Explains what?" she shot back.

"What you're doing here," the Vanguard said with a shrug. "I was with the Third in New York, before – well, before there was no more Third. The Admiral took in the survivors. We sure as hell didn't have any damn paparazzi following us around over there."

Marie felt the tops of her ears growing warm and took a deep breath. There were a hundred reasons why she should not yell at the marine, and they included not wanting to draw enemy forces to their position.

"The  _press_ are the ones making sure the damn Council races and private contractors and anyone with some semblance of military strength fights in this war," Marie growled. "We show the galaxy what's really happening down here. So the politicians on Thessia and the Citadel understand. And a fuck ton of us have died on the front lines, so you can shut your god damn mouth."

Andre shot her a warning look, motioning his head forward to Priya. The little girl was turned away from them, but she had slowed her steps and started walking straight on the path ahead.  _Crap._ Marie had been trying (very unsuccessfully) to watch her language around the kid.

"Marie's exposed war profiteers, and she got the story out when Cerberus messed up the North American evacuation," Andre added. "And I've seen her take down a couple husks. So, all due respect, but you can drop it, ma'am."

"You're out of line, private," the Vanguard shot back.

She did, however, fall silent. Her partner was not so composed. He was starting to ask if Marie knew anyone else aboard the Normandy, when they heard something in the bushes. Instantly, the squad fell silent. Andre pulled Priya back, in the middle of their formation, as Marie drew her gun. It could just be a rabbit or a deer – the Reapers had essentially ignored everything but mankind and their creations – but Marie still felt the adrenaline pushing her heart rate to a dangerous level.

"Identify yourself!" the female marine called out, just loud enough to be heard a few feet away.

There was more movement in the bushes. It sounded like some kind of frantic skirmish. Marie jumped a little when a young redheaded boy popped his head up above the foliage. He was quickly pulled back down by something. The Vanguard flagged the other marine forward and they flanked the bush. Marie watched tensely, wondering if the kid was indoctrinated or in trouble or a true refugee, before the marines lowered their weapons.

"It's alright," the Vanguard said softly, her tone an abrupt departure from the acid it held for Marie. "We're friends. You're safe. We won't hurt you."

Marie lowered her weapon, and the marines gently coaxed the two children out of the underbrush. There was a human boy, probably thirteen or fourteen by the awkward proportions of his long limbs and the spots on his face. He was accompanied by a young turian, only five feet tall and quite thin. Marie was pretty sure the turian was female, based on the shape of her face, but it was always hard to tell. She had dark metallic plating, marked with faded red pigment across her forehead and nose.

"We need to get them screened," the male marine said softly.

"We're almost at the water," the Vanguard said. "O'Rourke, you go with the private and the kids. Report in to Coats. Rai Mercier and I will take your canteens."

Andre looked like he wanted to protest, and Marie was not too keen on carrying so much back to the camp, but neither of them disagreed. The Vanguard  _did_ technically outrank them. They shifted some gear around, and Marie followed the Vanguard further into the woods. She did not know what to feel about the two children. She wanted to be happy. It had been two days since they found any surviving refugees that were not indoctrinated. But, there was no guarantee that these children were untouched by the Reaper's influence. And the last time she saw a child other than Priya was not a memory Marie enjoyed revisiting.

"It's a fucked up world," the Vanguard said, "when you can't even be excited about rescuing a couple kids. Stay on your guard. They could have been trying to separate us."

Marie nodded, keeping her pistol at the ready. But, their trip down to the water ended up being uneventful. The two women walked back in silence, overburdened, although Marie was the only one who appeared to feel the strain. She could tell she was slowing the Vanguard down, even though Marie had a good eight inches of height on the marine. It did not help that, even in the shade of the wooded path, the late afternoon was hot and humid. Marie knew this weather was technically preferable to the London autumn that would set in soon enough, cold and wet. But, with sweat drenching her back and pooling uncomfortably between her breasts, it was hard to really believe that.

She all but collapsed when they returned to camp. The kids must have checked out, and Marie let herself feel a bit of joy and hope at that. They were sitting over with Priya in the middle of the school's cafeteria. Priya was reading them one of the books, several years above her own reading level, that Marie had been working with her on. The two children were silent, looking exhausted and half-starved. Their emaciated forms were starkly contrasted against Priya, well cared for despite the chaos. Marie could not help worrying about them, some newly honed maternal instinct kicking in. How long had they been on their own? What had they done to survive?

"Everything go alright out there?"

Marie turned around to see Andre walking over. He started helping her with some filtering equipment as she nodded. "Well enough, I suppose. Although I don't think she likes me very much," Marie said. "What about the kids?"

Andre looked over to Priya, and Marie noticed his wary stare. "We got them something to eat. Neither of them have said a word, though," he sighed. "Hasn't stopped Priya from trying to talk them to death."

Marie smiled a little. "That kid. She's more resilient than the rest of us put together, I swear. Well, I'm glad. It's nice to finally find someone alive out there."

"Yeah. And it'll be good for her to have some kids around again, even if they're a bit older."

Marie leaned against one of the low tables, certainly designed for elementary school children instead of full grown soldiers, with a heavy sigh. She was exhausted, but at least her worries about the children being indoctrinated seemed to be unfounded. Nothing had happened yet, anyhow. If the Alliance medic cleared them, that would have to be good enough. They could hardly turn out a couple of kids, and Andre was right. Priya needed some other children to play with.

Andre placed a hand on Marie's shoulder. "I've got this. Go get a bit of rest and a change of clothes. You stink. Hell, go take a nap."

She pursed her lips at him in annoyance, earning a wide, self-satisfied smile. Oh, what she would give for a shower. They found some baby wipes in one of the classrooms a couple days ago, and being able to clean off just a bit had been a god send. But, the supply quickly ran out, and they did not have the water to spare for so much as a splash on the face. The whole building was starting to reek of blood and sweat, and Marie's skin felt uncomfortably sticky. But, at least she could find a change of clothes somewhere, to get rid of the sweat-drenched tank top under her armor.

And a nap did sound nice. It had been one hell of a day, between publishing a story on the battle at Rannoch and finding the refugees. And deciding that James was officially her boyfriend. Marie could do with a lie down before dinner.

"Alright. Keep an eye on them, and wake me for dinner, yeah?"

Andre nodded, and Marie walked off, beginning to undo the seals of her armor just as her Omni-tool pinged.

_[J: My turn. Favorite place you've ever lived?]_

Well, that nap could wait.


	12. Shore Leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! I know it's been ages since I updated. I'm in my last semester of grad school. Between school, work, and flying around the country for interviews, writing's had to take a back seat. This weekend I should have a little more breathing room, so hopefully I can get up a couple more chapters, since they're (mostly) done.
> 
> Anyway, this is a kind of fluffy chapter. Then we get to the end of ME3, and (as you can imagine) things start getting quite dark.

 

**29 August 2186 || 10:00 GST || Zakera Ward, Citadel**

_[M: Why am I watching a vid of Commander Shepard getting shot at on the Citadel? In a dress? And, oh yeah, what's this about the Normandy shooting at buildings on Zakera Ward?!]_

_[J: Yeah. That happened. Wasn't her fault though.]_

_[M: What exactly happened?!]_

_[J: I actually don't think I'm allowed to say. It's above your security clearance.]_

_[M: Oh, come on. You can tell me about curing the genophage and ending a civil war, but not this?]_

_[J: Sorry, Mar. My hands are tied on this one.]_

_[M: I'm disappointed in your integrity, James Vega.]_

James snorted, just as Cortez knocked him on the side of the head. "Hey, you said you'd help me with this, remember?"

"It's not like we're in a rush," James scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the Kodiak. The Normandy's shuttle bay door was open, giving the guys a nice view of the Citadel while they  _worked._  "We're in dry dock for a couple of days."

"And it's gonna take a couple of days to get this eezo core upgrade done," Cortez shot back. "I wanna make sure it's in place before we leave. Can't have the shuttle down for our next mission. So stop flirting and help."

"Yeah, yeah," James groaned, turning back to his Omni-tool.

"Love how you don't even bother to deny it anymore, by the way. Tell Marie I say hi," Cortez added, taking a swig of his beer before heading back to work. "And pass me that torch."

_[J: Ha! Look, Esteban's being a total hardass. I'm helping him with some repairs. I'll talk to you in a bit.]_

James put away his Omni-tool and got to work. He tried to remember  _why_ exactly he was helping with this. He was hardly an engineer. But, James had grown tired of playing poker in the refugee camp, especially with how crowded it was becoming. He did not need to fill his shore time with reminders of just how many worlds the Reapers were wiping out of existence.

Shepard's place on Zakera Wards was no better. The refugees were replaced by the desperately nouveau riche, spending credits like it was the end of the world. (Of course, it probably was, but that hardly made their behavior less annoying.)

So, with nothing better to do, James was taking orders from  _Esteban_ _._ At least, as they were technically off duty, there was  _cerveza_ involved.

A couple hours passed by quickly enough before they finished a major part of the upgrade, getting some new couplings into place, and decided to take a break. Steve came back down from the Mess with a couple more cold beers as James checked his Omni-tool.

_[M: What's the point of you being on shore leave if I can't talk to you? Tell Steve to stop being an ass.]_

"Marie says you're being an ass," James said aloud.

Steve rolled his eyes and handed James the frosty green bottle. "Yeah, she sent me a message. Had a few creative things to say. She's really putting that English degree to good use."

_[J: Steve says hi. And we're done for a bit. So, you got anything you wanna talk about?]_

_[J: And no trying to pry me for information.]_

_[M: You're no fun.]_

_[M: Why are you working during shore leave anyway?]_

_[J: I don't know. Being on the Citadel just feels kinda off right now.]_

_[M: Yeah. I can see that. I can't even imagine. It's kinda infuriating, really. We're down here in the middle of a warzone, and it's business as usual up there. Hell, there's a new Blasto movie coming out soon. That's messed up.]_

_[J: Everything okay down there?]_

_[M: Relatively speaking. We've had a couple successful hit and runs over in Camden. Sounds like the Fifth managed to liberate a small prison camp, though reports are pretty sketchy. They don't have a QEC.]_

_[J: I wasn't talking about the war efforts. How are those kids you found doing?]_

_[M: The human still hasn't said a word. The turian girl's pretty smart, though. Younger than I thought. They're so tall, even as kids. She's been getting on really good with Priya. It's nice, having someone else to look after her. Someone closer to her age.]_

_[J: That's good. Danny and Andre?]_

_[M: Danny's been flirting with this girl. Schoolteacher turned resistance fighter. It's pretty damn adorable. And Andre's okay. I don't know. He seems to be getting a bit distant lately. I don't know if what happened in Islington scared him, or if he's just trying to protect himself.]_

_[J: Protect himself?]_

_[M: Getting close to people down here isn't exactly the smartest thing. Most of the resistance fighters coming through this camp are dead within a week. Andre's an anomaly, with his good luck. The career soldiers have better survival rates, obviously, but…]_

_[J: I didn't realize it was that bad.]_

_[M: Sorry. I'm ruining your shore leave.]_

_[J: Bullshit. That's not physically possible.]_

_[J: Are you okay?]_

_[M: Yeah. I mean, it's rough, but it's no rougher than usual. It's hard to believe sometimes … we've been at this for over a month. Sometimes it feels like years. Sometimes it feels like only days.]_

_[J: I know what you mean. Not being able to talk to you is when it feels like years, though.]_

_[M: Flatterer.]_

_[J: I try.]_

* * *

**30 August 2186 || 02:00 BST || St. Mary Cray, England, Earth**

"Shore leave? Well, that's just plain unfair," Cantor said, scratching at this two-day stubble thoughtfully. "Call."

"Call," Marie said, placing her cards down on the table. She had two queens, and things were looking pretty good. If nothing else, this war had certainly improved her Skyllian Five skills. She looked up at prematurely grizzled ICT graduate and smiled. "Yeah, I know. Told him as much."

Cantor had joined their little game in what appeared to be a kindergarten classroom. It was ridiculous, really. Two soldiers and two wartime reporters, sitting on the floor around a tiny table that barely came up to Marie's knees. But, there were very few familiar faces around now. Cantor had apparently given in to that fact and decided to get to know some of the survivors. He was surprisingly amicable, outside the sparring ring.

"You find out what the deal was with all that craziness on the Citadel?" Danny asked, staring down at his cards thoughtfully. "It sounded like Shepard lost her damn mind."

"No," Marie said in a low voice, as Andre turned over the next card in the river. "Apparently whatever happened is highly classified. I tried calling shenanigans, but he wouldn't budge."

Marie very consciously had to stop herself from smirking at the third queen that had shown up on the table. With that set of tens, she was golden.  _Full house, bitches._

"Anderson knows," Andre said. "I heard some of the guys trying to press him for information."

"Of course he does. He's probably closer to Shepard than anyone," Marie said, throwing another cigarette on the table. None of them smoked, but there was nothing else of value to bet with. "Raise."

"You think that rumor 'bout him punching Councilor Udina is true?" Cantor asked.

"Totally true," Marie laughed. "I asked James about it. The whole bit about them stealing the Normandy right after is true, too."

Cantor let out a low whistle and folded. He leaned back in his chair and gave Marie an appraising stare. "You know, it's funny that the guys are more willing to risk pissing off Anderson asking about Shepard than go after you. Sounds like you've got quite the in."

"They're all scared of her," Andre quipped, throwing another cigarette on the table. "And I'm calling your bluff, Marie."

Marie raised an eyebrow. "Tell me that's not actually true."

"You kidding? The only woman here scarier than you is Huang," Danny laughed. When Marie gave him a puzzled look, he added, "That Vanguard you got water with the other day? When you found those kids? Freaking terrifying. I was looking over that footage of her fighting off husks. The way she charges forward – man, I never wanna get on her bad side. And I'm out for this round."

"Just you and me, now, coffee boy," Marie said over her cards. Danny flipped the next card in the river, and Marie smiled. There was no hope of a four of a kind or a flush. Unless Andre had a pair of aces or kings, she was about to take in a nice haul of cancer sticks. "But, wait, I don't get it. I'm not intimidating."

Cantor snorted. "Yeah, right. You talk your mind, and you're not afraid to run headfirst into a gunfight. Been meaning to talk to you about that, by the way. You're rubbish at watching your six. 'Course, half the stuff flying 'round here 'bout you is rumors."

"Like?" Marie looked down at the table to see that Andre had two kings. "Son of a bitch!"

Marie threw down her queens just as Andre laughed, "Full house. Pay up, Rai Mercier."

"Like you grew up in the slums of New York," Cantor said. "They're even saying you were part of a gang."

"It was the slums of Milwaukee. Much less glamorous," Marie quipped. "No gangs though. What else are they saying?"

"That you took down a Batarian slaving ring," Cantor added, dealing out the next round.

"Oh, that one's true."

"You're joking?"

"I wasn't alone. I was working under another reporter. Pretty soon after graduating university, actually," Marie said, looking down at her cards.

_Crap._

"Okay, what about the rumor that you slept with Aria T'Loak?"

Marie choked on her tea. It spilled out onto her running shorts and the rainbow carpet. " _That's_ one of the rumors about me? Oh my god."

"You did say something about an asari girlfriend," Danny mused.

"Daniel Granger!" she scolded, shoving him playfully in the arm. "Yeah, but not the freaking queen of Omega. I happen to value my life a bit, thank you very much."

"Wait, I'm lost," Andre said, throwing in a cigarette to call. "Who's Aria T'Loak?"

Marie was going to explain, but she let Cantor do it instead when her Omni-tool vibrated. It was James.

"I'm out this round," she said, leaning back from the table. She caught Andre and Danny rolling their eyes in unison and shot them a rude gesture.

_[J: Okay, so I'm probably just saying this because I'm a little drunk. But, you know what I wish?]_

_[M: ¿Qué?]_

_[J: I wish I asked you back to my place, that night on Earth. I was seriously considering it. I was about to. Then, I turned around, and you were gone.]_

_[J: Y … ¿español?]_

_[M: Intento. That N3 you threatened has been teaching me a few things. His mum's from Argentina. And … I know. I bailed.]_

_[J: Can I ask why?]_

_[M: I liked you. … If I went home with you, I never would have called.]_

_[J: _¿_ Porqué?]_

_[M: Porque I had a relationship that started out that way, once. It didn't end well. So I put up a firewall between one night stands and more serious stuff.]_

_[J: Did it work?]_

_[M: Kinda. Never had a relationship end that badly again, anyway.]_

_[J: What happened?]_

_[M: You really don't want to know.]_

_[J: Come on. How bad could it be?]_

_Oh, we got into a huge fight. She kicked me out in the middle of the night, and I revenge-fucked her best friend. I had to request a damn transfer to get off the station before the end of the week._

Marie looked up to see Andre watching her. She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her boot. "Mind your own damn business, Jones."

_[M: Bad. I'm serious. Don't push me on this.]_

_[J: Did he hurt you?]_

_[M: What? No. Of course not.]_

_[M: And it was a she, for what it's worth.]_

_[M: Get your mind out of the gutter, marine.]_

_[J: Honestly, it didn't even go there. I swear. ... Sounds like you're not over it.]_

Marie frowned. This was really not an area she wanted to get into with James. For starters, it might scare him away. It was also, even three years later, pretty painful. Marie had been in love, with a human girl named Anika. They had been dating for about six months when the fight happened. It was one of her longest relationships, and she only realized what she was giving up after hurting Ani. Marie was not sure a person  _ever_  got over something like that.

_[M: No … look, can we talk about something else? Please?]_

_[J: Ok. I've got something for you to try and translate. Tu con tantas curvas, y yo sin frenos. And no just plugging it in!]_

_[M: If I ask that N3 to help, is it going to be embarrassing?]_

_[J: No.]_

_[M: Liar.]_

She fiddled with her Omni-tool, bringing up a search function.  _You with –_ Marie smirked at the easy translation between "curvas" and "curves" –  _You with those curves, and me with no brakes._ It took a moment for the full meaning to sink in. Marie had never been behind the wheel of anything that actually  _had_ brakes except for a tractor, and one did not exactly take a John Deer around a sharp bank without a death wish. It must have been an old line.

She wanted to dock him points for lack of originality. But it was a damn good turn of phrase.

_[M: Done and good, because we have lost time to make up for at the end of all this.]_

"Uh, Marie?" Danny waved a hand in front of her face. "You in for the next round? What are you smiling so big about?"

"Nah, I'm out," Marie said, pocketing the cigarettes in her bra. She smirked at the raised eyebrow that earned from Cantor. She stood and threw a wave lazily over her shoulder as she headed out into the hall. "Have fun, boys."

_[J: Dios mío, chica.]_

_[M: What're you up to right now? Who are you getting drunk with?]_

_[J: I was watching a biotiball game with Lola and Esteban. We just left. I'm heading back to the Normandy.]_

_[M: Who was playing?]_

_[J: Sorcerers vs. Maestros]_

_[M: I hope the Sorcerers kicked some ass.]_

_[J: Unfortunately.]_

_[M: Don't tell me you bet against the home team!]_

_[M: You're one of those guys that just roots for the Maestros cause they're hot, aren't you?]_

_[J: No comment.]_

_[M: A Maestros fan. Well, that's it. I have to break up with you now.]_

_[J: Who's your favorite team then?]_

_[M: London United, all the way. One of the only human teams to have ever beaten the Maestros, by the way.]_

_[J: I guess I can respect that.]_

_[M: Damn straight.]_

_[J: What're you up to?]_

_[M: I was playing poker with the guys.]_

_[J: You any good?]_

_[M: I've got a decent poker face.]_

_[J: I'll bet.]_

Marie walked outside, to a small fenced-in playground. There were a couple of marines smoking in one corner as they chatted about some past mission. Marie ignored them and headed for the swings. They were tiny things, meant for small children, but she wedged herself between the plastic ropes anyway. She swung back and forth absentmindedly, trying to think of something light to discuss or witty to say. Maybe she was just too tired, or maybe she just really wanted the answer to her question, but she forced the conversation to take a different turn.

_[M: You find out about your next mission yet?]_

_[J: Can we not talk shop?]_

_[M: It's not talking shop. It's finding out what kind of crazy impossible mission my boyfriend's going on next.]_

_[J: Yeah, well, I've got nothing for you either way. I do like the sound of that, though.]_

"What are you doing out here, Rai Mercier?"

Marie looked up from the orange glow of her Omni-tool to see Anderson standing in the doorway.

"It's a nice night," Marie said. Sure, the sky was choked with smoke and the thick air was  _almost_ uncomfortably warm. But, it was quiet. Not a screeching Banshee or Reaper laser to be heard.

"Can't sleep?" he said knowingly, walking out onto the rubber chips that made up the floor of the playground.

"Looks like I'm not the only one," Marie sighed.

"How's Vega doing?"

Marie resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she shut down her Omni-tool. "Fine. Sounds like that shore leave's doing them all some good."

"Good. If there's anyone who needs to relax, it's Shepard and her crew," Anderson said, coming to a halt a couple feet from where Marie was gently rocking back and forth on the swing. "And you? How are you getting on?"

"Still alive. That's always something."

"Marie."

"I'm okay. Really," she assured him. "And you? Something tells me no one ever asks how you're doing, Admiral."

He waved a hand dismissively, and Marie just shook her head. She was tempted to press him, but – while she was always surprised by how casual their encounters were – Marie did not think they were close enough for her to play the concerned daughter. She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn instead. Anderson's eyes crinkled in a smile.

"You should try to get some sleep, child," he said softly.

Marie nodded absentmindedly. She needed sleep badly, but Marie had become afraid of closing her eyes. During the day, she managed to keep everything together. There was a war on, and there was work to be done. There were people to protect, physically and emotionally. But, in Marie's nightmares, there was always some new horror waiting to remind her that everything was very much  _not_ okay.

Anderson looked unconvinced, but he still headed over to talk to the marines at the other end of the park. Marie muttered a "good night, sir" and brought her Omni-tool back up.

_[M: Sorry. Anderson wanted to chat. It's late. I think I'm going to try and get some rest.]_

_[J: Okay. Good night. Sweet dreams.]_

_[M: Hey, it's late there, too, right? Don't stay out all night. Make good choices.]_

_[J: Hahaha … don't worry about me.]_

_[M: Too late. I'll talk to you in the morning. Good night.]_


	13. A Losing Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so, we had a nice fluffy couple of chapters there. From here on out, things get really dark. At least for a few chapters. The war's coming to an end, and that means some particularly brutal realities down on Earth. This chapter in particular goes to a pretty terrifying place. You've been warned.

 

**2 September 2186 || 16:00 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

_[J: I'm fine.]_

James cringed as he lied to Marie  _again._ He had texted her right after they evacuated the Parnitha System, leaving Thessia in the Normandy's wake. It had been an attempt to forget the look on the Commander's face, using a little shameless flirting followed by a couple shots of good tequila. James had never seen Shepard look so defeated. When she stepped out of the Kodiak down in the shuttle bay, James would have thought that the war was lost. Hell, it might have been. Without the Catalyst, they were properly screwed.

And James was not about to tell Marie that.

_[M: Stop.]_

_[J: Look, I don't want to talk about it.]_

_[M: Good for you. I'm here to make you talk about it.]_

James threw his head back and groaned.  _Impossible freaking woman._ Why did he have to choose to date someone so damn stubborn?

_[J: I can't discuss it, Mar. Classified.]_

That was not entirely true. Word of Thessia being overrun by the Reapers was going to reach the rest of the galaxy shortly. James reasoned, however, that he would then have to explain why they were on the Asari homeworld. And Marie did not have high enough security clearance to know about the Crucible.

That was his story, anyway, and he was sticking to it.

_[M: Fine.]_

It was just one written word, but James could practically hear the cold acid in it. There was a rather immature part of him that wanted to yell at her. Just last week, it was Marie who had gone dark for almost a whole day, scaring the hell out of him. She, of all people, clearly understood not being ready to talk about something.

_And that was just over one tiny colony and a couple soldiers. Oh, shit. Don't think like that, marine._

James took another shot, this one laced with a particularly bitter guilt. And then he took another. He was about to down a fifth when Steve walked over and grabbed his hand.

"Will you talk to your girlfriend? She's annoying the hell out of me," he said, holding up his illuminated Omni-tool. "And lay off that. Last thing we need is for you to be hung over when we hit the Iera System."

"What's she annoying you for?" James said sullenly, shrugging his hand out from under Steve's. "Yeah, yeah. Last one, Esteban. I promise."

"She can tell something's wrong," Steve said with annoyance, watching as James took that last shot. He grabbed the bottle and poured himself one. "Just talk to her."

"Can't," James said with a shrug. "I can't explain that Cerberus just totally fucked us over by stealing the data that would have led to the Catalyst. I can't explain why Shepard looks like the war's already lost."

Cortez closed the bottle and tucked it under one arm, grabbing the shot glasses for good measure. "You'll figure something out. But, she's not going to stop pestering me to come talk to you. So just say  _something._   _Dios,_ what was I thinking, setting the two of you up?"

James groaned as he watched Steve walk over to the Kodiak. It was annoying how often that  _pendejo_ was right.

_[J: Look … we just suffered a pretty big loss. It's raw right now.]_

_[M: Is everyone alright? Physically, I mean.]_

_[J: Yeah. Everyone on the Normandy's fine. It's just … you're gonna hear about Thessia soon. Can't tell you why we were there. But it was like Earth all over again.]_

_[M: Shit.]_

_[M: Ok. When you're ready to talk, I'm here.]_

_[J: Thanks.]_

_[J: How is everyone down there?]_

_[M: We're fine, James. It's been pretty quiet, actually. The First is still running ops, but they've been lower risk. More people coming back than before.]_

_[J: Good. Have you gone with them?]_

_[M: No. I'm still benched. Danny helped me rig the helmets of a couple officers to catch footage. It'll do for now.]_

James felt a prickle of anger. If they could have done that the whole time, why  _the hell_  was Marie only taking herself out of the line of fire now? It would have been easy to blow up at her. It probably would have felt good, to experience rage rather than grief. But, James remembered back to that day Marie would not respond. He did not need to scare her or hurt her, like she had done to him.

_[J: You're not going to like me saying it, but that makes me happy.]_

_[M: Yeah, I know. Asshole. If I'm being honest though … I probably wouldn't go out right now even if Anderson would let me.]_

_[J: Have you been able to sleep through the night yet?]_

_[M: No. But don't go worrying about me right now. Sounds like you've got some pretty big problems of your own. My insomnia's not such a big deal, all things considered.]_

_[J: Boyfriend, remember? It comes with the gig.]_

_[M: Look, honestly … I'll deal with everything when the war's over. You can get that, right?]_

James felt a tightening in his chest. More than ever before, he was not sure the war  _would_ end. At least, it wouldn't end with them alive. Shepard had been pressing forward, undaunted, throughout the past month. She kept the rest of them going, with genuine hope that they would beat the odds. They would do what no other species had ever done and take out those Reaper bastards.

To see Shepard as she was now, defeated and broken, left James with little of that hope left. He wanted to just get back to Earth and hold Marie, to say and do all the things he should have the night they met. He wanted to pull her close and feel her lips against his.

And it was becoming readily apparent that day might never come.

_[J: Yeah. I'll be there for you when it is.]_

* * *

**3 September 2186 || 03:00 BST || St. Mary Cray, England, Earth**

Marie woke up to a hand pressed over her mouth. She struggled for a fraction of a second before Andre's voice was anxiously shushing her. Her body still remained tense, but Marie decided against punching her assailant in the throat. Instead, she listened for a moment, her skin tingling with a sudden surge of adrenaline. The third year classroom the civilians had taken over as their sleeping quarters was silent, illuminated by a full moon filtering through the smog outside. For a couple seconds, Marie wondered with frustration what Andre was going on about. And then she heard the distinct sound of gunfire in the hallway.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

The sound was off, unlike any weapon she had ever heard before. It sounded  _old_ , like one of those guns without thermal clips from before first contact. The same realization that had Andre on edge struck Marie. It wasn't the Alliance or even the Reapers firing out in the hall.

"Get the boy and Alba up," he whispered in her ear, just barely audible. "I'll get Danny and Priya."

Marie slid out from beside Andre on the hard, threadbare carpet and moved clumsily over to the children, keeping her body as low to the ground as possible. She saw that the turian girl was already awake, and Marie pressed a finger to her lips. She placed a hand over the boy's mouth. He woke immediately and struggled, but Alba was there to reassure him with soothing words too low for Marie to make out.

Pop. Pop.

There was a door at the far side of the classroom, leading out to a small garden. Marie looked over to see that Andre had successfully roused Danny and Priya. The girl was in his arms, while Danny was clicking the safety off his sidearm. Marie realized in panic that she left her own pistol under a desk, when it came to skid across the carpet at her feet. Danny winked knowingly, and Marie turned off the safety with a careful, slow movement of her thumb. She pointed with two fingers to the back door, and the other two adults in the room nodded.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

"All units, this is Admiral Anderson. First Battalion Outpost is under attack. Run Echo Threat formations. Sending rendezvous coordinates now."

The whisper came over Marie's communication line, and she could see from the look on Andre and Danny's faces that they had heard it, too. Echo. It was code for an attack by humans – either indoctrinated or just plain evil – when the night shift was on active duty. Marie remembered the code. Hell, she remembered them all. Alpha for an attack by Husks. Delta if a Reaper was bearing down close to their location. Omega for a Harvester.

But, while the codes ran through her head, Marie could not remember what they were actually supposed to  _do_ during an Echo Threat drill. She looked to Andre, wondering if she looked as suddenly panicked and incompetent as she felt, and realized he was on top of things. He nodded and flagged her back through the doorway, and Marie remembered something.  _Civilians are to evacuate immediately. Get to the woods, stay low, and wait for the all clear. Team Mattock will grab Level 1 supplies and help any civilians nearby to evacuate._

Andre was Team Falcon, but he seemed to be ignoring that now. Marie crossed the room, staying low, with Alba and the human boy. When they were huddled by the door, Andre reached up to very carefully open it. The school building was an ancient place, with manual handles and locks. That worked in their favor tonight. There was no hiss of an automatic door disengaging or a power failure to get in their way.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

This time, the sound of exploding gunpowder reverberating through the halls was met with the more familiar, high-pitched volley of an Avenger series rifle. Andre flagged everyone through the door. Danny moved forward, pistol drawn, ahead of the children. Marie and Andre took up the rear. Andre made sure to close the door softly behind him, and Marie looked warily around the garden. It was too bright outside for her tastes. Unarmored and barely armed, trying to protect three children, she felt horribly exposed.

They stayed crouched down and made their way to the left gate. The back of the school was a series of gardens, one for each classroom, separated by high concrete fences. They were in the middle of the compound, and the group would need to traverse at least four more of these walled enclosures before they could make for the woods. Unless they climbed over the back fence. Both options had their risks and rewards.

The sound of gunfire was getting louder. It was closer, but there was also more of a resistance force. Marie heard a new volley of shooting start off somewhere to the left.  _Damn it._ Whoever these bastards were, they had multiple teams spread through the school. At least that made their decision for them.

"Over the wall," Andre confirmed, his whisper just barely audible, even with Marie crouched right next to him. "Marie, you go first. We'll pass the children over."

Marie glanced backward to the classroom behind them, still unoccupied, and allowed Danny to boost her up over the wall. She landed, bare feet soft on the cold grass, and felt prickles running up her legs at the shock. Immediately, Marie drew her pistol from between her teeth, clicked the safety back off, and looked out onto the wooded two lane road ahead.

"All clear!" she called out, as loudly as she dared. She turned as someone hoisted Priya over the wall. The little one was in an oversized London United jersey. It caught around her like a parachute as she jumped down into Marie's arms. Alba was next, lithely jumping down beside where Priya stood.

Marie flinched at the sound of the window behind them breaking. Andre yelled at someone to go as the  _pop pop_ of an old rifle mixed with his AR. The human boy's head appeared over the wall. Marie reached up to grab him.

Pop.

The boy fell behind the wall, and Marie found herself grabbing hold of Alba. The young turian child was strong as she tried to climb back over the wall, but Marie was stronger. She hooked an arm around Alba's stomach and hoisted her over one shoulder. She held the turian tightly as she screamed and struggled, and Marie was relieved to see that Priya was already two steps ahead, running toward the road. They dashed across, the pavement scratching against the soles of their feet, and made it into the safety of the forest.

Only when there were a good thirty meters of trees behind them did Marie realize what she was doing. She was running away. Danny and Andre and everyone else were behind, caught in a gunfight. Sure, this was the plan. And no one would forgive her if she ran back toward the fighting now. Alba was still crying out, arms extended toward the school. That boy – the boy whose name Marie had never even learned – was her whole world.

"You need to be quiet now," Marie said nervously. She tried to sound reassuring, but it was difficult through her labored breathing. "We can't let them hear us."

She looked around as they ran, watching the ground as best she could. Breaking a leg now would be highly counterproductive. Marie tried to get her bearings, but there were no markers in this vast expanse of the woods. She did see an overhang of earth to their right, where a fallen oak tree provided some cover. Priya saw it, too, and the two of them ran toward it. The road was fifty meters away now. It would have to do. Marie's back was about to give out from carrying the tiny and surprisingly heavy turian.

At least Alba had fallen silent. She curled into a ball when Marie released her, burying her head in her knees. Marie wanted to comfort her, but she found her hand only hovering above Alba's carapace. The sound of gunfire had stopped, although Marie did not know whether the battle was truly over or they were simply too far away now to hear it. Marie kneeled on the ground between the two girls, her pistol still at the ready as Priya climbed into her lap. The child, who had been so impossibly strong during all of this, during the entire war, began to whimper quietly into her chest. Marie used her free arm to hold her close, tucking Priya's blond head under her chin.

She wanted to say it would be alright. She wanted to say that Andre and Danny were alive. But, the dishonest words would not come. Instead, she softly sang a Hindi lullaby her father used to sing.

_Little eyes are filled with sleep._

_Sleep brings along a thousand dreams._

_Sleep my little baby._

_The milky white moon is shining in the sky._

_Riding on his chariot of moonbeams._

_Now sleep my little baby._

_Hush my little baby._

_Little eyes are filled with sleep._

_Sleep brings along a thousand dreams._

_Sleep my little baby._

She repeated the song over and over, until her whispering voice was hoarse. Alba eventually uncurled slightly and leaned against Marie. The grip of the pistol was sliding in her sweaty palm, but Marie never let go. She stayed tense, ready to attack, even though her legs were growing numb beneath her and some fallen twigs were cutting into her knees. It seemed they stayed that way for hours until a voice came over the communication device in her ear, startling Marie so much she would have fired her pistol, had her finger been on the trigger.

"This is Admiral Anderson. The First Battalion base is secured. Submitting confirmation codes now." Marie released Priya and pulled up her Omni-tool, startling the girls. The codes started coming in as Anderson spoke on her private line. "Marie? Are you okay out there?"

"We're here, Admiral," she said softly, the relief flooding in.

"Head back to the school," he told her. "I've got Jones and Granger here. Are the girls safe?"

"They're unharmed," Marie said. "We'll be there in a couple minutes."

The walk to the camp felt so much longer than the run out had been. Marie was tempted to run back, but she hardly had the energy for it. Instead she walked, Priya on her back and Alba holding her hand. She still kept her pistol drawn, worried that Reapers or humans could still be out among the trees. The occasional twig cracked underfoot, and Marie only now realized that the soles of her feet were bleeding. At the road, she kept to the tree line and carefully ensured the coast was clear before crossing. The trio walked around the compound, to the east gate, and were let in by a couple shaken-looking resistance fighters.

They had not walked ten feet when Marie saw the first body, a human in Eclipse armor. She had encountered their kind before on Ilium and Bekenstein. Marie instinctively looked for another path around, where the girls would not have to see, but there was only one way into the school from here. Besides, Priya and Alba were no strangers to death, no matter how much Marie had tried to shield her human charge over the past month. So, Marie helped Alba carefully skirt around the body and followed, feeling how the tiny turian's palm quaked in hers. She doubted it had to do much with the mercenary. Marie found a painful lump in her throat, remembering how Anderson had not mentioned the human boy.

They made their way down the hall, past dead Alliance soldiers and mercenaries – or, at least, civilians in mercenary armor – as Marie looked around desperately for Danny or Andre. She saw Anderson first. He gave her an approving nod before turning back to a marine in slightly singed armor. Marie felt the weight of Alba's hand in hers, as well as the way Priya was clinging desperately to her neck, as she plowed on through a frantic crowd of resistance fighters and professional soldiers. They climbed over two more bodies – one a mercenary and one an Alliance marine – before Marie saw Andre.

As if he sensed her presence, the resistance fighter turned and met her gaze. Relief washed over his face as he broke off his conversation with another soldier and rushed over, pulling Marie and Priya into a tight embrace.

"Thank God you're okay," he breathed in her ear.

Marie felt Alba let go of her hand. She tried to grab for the small turian, looking over Andre's shoulder desperately, but Alba had disappeared into the crowd.

"The human boy?" Marie whispered back, not really wanting to know the answer to her query.

"It's not your fault," he whispered, probably too softly for even Priya to hear.

"I know, but Alba–" Marie pulled away, looking around in earnest for the Turian. It took her a few moments of frantic searching, but she finally saw that Danny had made the intercept. "Priya, sweetie, why don't you stay with Andre? I'll be right back. I promise."

Priya clung even more tightly to Marie, for a moment. But, eventually, she released her vice grip and allowed Andre to pull her into a hug. He cradled the girl to his chest, exchanging a wary look with Marie as she put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not the one you need to be worried about right now," she said.

Andre nodded, looking doubtful, and Marie headed toward Danny and Alba. The young executive producer tried to hold the turian child, but she pulled roughly away and ran down the hall. Danny tried to run after her, but Marie pulled him back. He turned toward Marie, and she could see that his eyes were red with crying. It had been a long, hard night for all of them. She pulled Danny into a hug, being sure not to let go until he did. His fingers clawed at the back of her shirt as he buried his face in her shoulder.

For all the horrors the two of them had witnessed, it had  _never_ been like this.

"I don't know what to do," he said, pulling away.

Marie cupped Danny's face in her hands. He looked even younger now than usual, a teenager thrown into a senseless war. The defeat in his eyes broke her heart.

"I'm not expecting you to work right now," she said. "But, if that's what you want to do, then do it. Find out what the bloody hell happened here. Find out, so we can get out a warning or a damnation or both."

He nodded in her hands, defeat turning to determined fire. Marie let go and watched him walk resolutely away toward Anderson. She turned, but Marie only made it a couple of feet before her bare toe hit something on the ground. After finding Danny and Andre, she had forgotten about the bodies on the ground. But, there was nothing to forget now.

Lieutenant Cantor was staring blankly up at the ceiling. Nobody had even bothered to close his eyes. He was in full armor, apparently having been on duty, but a dark mark between his eyes told the story of his death plainly. Marie staggered backward into the wall, bumping up against an old corkboard holding the crayon drawings of children long since gone. Everything she had been struggling to hold back – fear, pain, anger, guilt – threatened to come to the surface in one moment of weakness. Cantor had been a stranger. He was just a burly, private marine who trained her in hand-to-hand combat and joined in on one game of poker.

But, Marie had wanted to know him better. There was a well-earned confidence to him, but it never masked or interfered with a solid heart. He was a good man, fighting for humanity after losing every individual he cared about. And, now, Marie would never know the full story of his life. It was quite possible that no one alive ever would.

It was only a high-pitched cry that broke Marie's reflection. Alba was screaming, and Marie immediately pushed herself away from the wall. She stepped over Cantor – over the vessel that had once held him, anyway – and ran down the hall. A kindergarten classroom, the one Marie had played poker in just a few days ago, had been turned into a makeshift morgue. A couple medics were bringing in another body. Marie followed them into the classroom, to see Alba crouched over the human boy's lifeless body.

Her tiny form was shaking, although no tears flowed down over her face. She had one taloned hand upon the boy's pale face. The two children had been  _everything_ to each other for weeks. They had survived, when all those around them perished. And now, Alba was more alone than even Marie had ever been. Marie felt helpless and weak as she watched the child cry, unable to bring herself to interrupt. It felt inappropriate, somehow.

It was Alba who eventually looked up and found Marie, standing and shaking in the corner. She looked back down at the human child, but Marie recognized the cue. She pushed herself away from the wall and walked over, kneeling next to Alba. Marie wrapped an arm around Alba's carapace and simply held her, not too tightly or too closely, as the child mourned her only friend. Her only family left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So, I know that last chapter was heavy. To put it mildly. It was hard to write and hard to edit, and I'm still not convinced I did it justice. But I felt the scene was necessary to drive home two key elements of the war (and war in general) as I see it. First, there are still atrocities being committed by people, not Reapers, during this war. Second, it's the innocent who suffer the most. ME focuses on the stories of soldiers, but this story is meant to be just as much about the horrific loss of civilian life that would have occurred during ME3.
> 
> Then, more practically, the aftermath sets up some important character development for Danny, Alba, and Marie. And, don't worry, the chapter does end on a happier note.


	14. The Darkness Just Before

**3 September 2186 || 06:00 GST || St. Mary Cray, England, Earth**

Marie stood in the courtyard, a scarf pulled over her face. They were just now burning the bodies on the other side of the school, but the stench and smoke were carried on the wind. She should have been inside. She should have been trying to sleep. But, there was a lot Marie could not face inside the school building. The deadened look in Alba's eyes. Cantor's dog tags hanging on a memorial wall. The sound of an old fashioned gun putting a bullet in a thirteen-year-old boy's back. Instead, Marie had gone outside shortly after returning to the school. She watched the sky grow lighter, fading from black to blue to grey. There were low clouds blocking the rising sun, marking the start of a stormy day.

"What the hell were you thinking, soldier?"

The sound of Anderson yelling inside caused Marie to snap her head up.

"She was a murderer! A war criminal!" a second voice, high but male, shot back.

"We don't shoot prisoners in cold blood!" Anderson thundered.

Marie almost instinctively leaned inside the doorway, looking down the hall to the shouting match.

"Those assholes took down a quarter of our squad!"

"That prisoner had information, Lieutenant! There could be more of them out there!" Anderson yelled. "I should court marshal you, for pulling a stunt like that!"

"Then do it!"

"Like hell I will! We need every damn soldier we can get," Anderson said, his voice turning from shocked rage to disciplined disappointment. "Damn it. Go throw her with the others."

Marie walked down the hall. She could not stop herself from asking, "Did you at least learn anything from her?"

Anderson turned abruptly to face Marie. There was an unfamiliar acid to his tone as he asked, "You looking for a story?"

"I'm looking to find out who shot a kid on my watch," she spat back, unable to keep her voice from wavering.

Anderson's face softened at that. "There was nothing you could have done, Marie. This was our fault. Our perimeter was unsecure, and–"

"You're running low on men. Nothing you can do about that," Marie said. "And no one could have predicted there would be a band of mercs out here. A few weeks ago, sure. But now? With how bad it's gotten? With how few survivors we've seen?"

"It's my job to be prepared for anything. We let these men down," Anderson said quietly. Marie realized the hall was empty, and she was surprised by Anderson's sudden candor.

It was a risky move, but Marie put a hand on Anderson's arm. When he did not shrug it away or give a wary look, she pressed on, "Like hell you did. Those drills we've been running saved all our asses last night. Now, who was she? Who were they?"

Anderson groaned, taking off his cap and running a hand through his short, greying hair. "Far as we could tell, before – well, it looked like they were really mercs. Not even indoctrinated."

"Shit. And they were just, what? After our supplies?"

"Looks like it."

Marie felt a rage boiling under her skin. They could have come in peacefully, and the Alliance happily would have shared food and clothing. Shelter. They could have signed up and gotten their hands on some professional-grade munitions. Instead, they chose to attack, to gather supplies to save their own hides. Everyone else be damned.

It had been a couple weeks since Marie was reminded about the harshest reality of this war. It was not in the apocalyptic nature of their odds, nor even in the horrific sight of husks. It was the way some people still clung to selfishness and violence like a damn security blanket.

And now twelve good men were dead. A child was dead.  _That_ was her fault.

Marie's hand was through the plaster of the wall, pain rocketing up her arm, before she realized what was happening. She hissed out a stream of curses in pain and shock.

"Not this again," Danny said behind her. "You know, we only have so much Medi-gel."

She turned around to glare at him. Danny's low, acerbic tone was matched by a piercing stare. Those grey-blue eyes looked out at her like chips of ice, unflinching and unsympathetic. Marie extracted her hand from the plaster, catching on a bolt and cutting open her hand. She gasped in pain and pulled the new wound to her lips.

"The hell is your problem?" she spat, just as she heard Anderson walking away behind her. Apparently the admiral had enough to worry about, without dealing with  _this._ Whatever the hell this was.

"Oh, I don't know. It might have to do with you wandering off after fifteen minutes last night, leaving Andre and I to deal with everything on our own.  _You_ weren't the one who got shot at.  _You_ weren't the one who had a kid bleed out in your arms."

Danny might have punched her, for the way his words caused Marie to stagger backwards.  _Damn it._ She had not even realized what kind of hell the guys were in, while she was crouched with two terrified children in the woods. She had not even stopped to think about it.

"I'm sorry."

The words felt hollow. Inadequate.

"You find anything out from the Admiral?" Danny asked. His tone said Marie was being ignored instead of forgiven.

"They weren't indoctrinated," she answered in a low voice, feeling her throat tighten.

"Thus the hole in the wall," he said, and Marie thought his tone had softened a bit. Marie nodded, and they stood in silence for a moment. She wanted to say something, to explain her own selfish fear of being around everyone last night, but there were no words to explain it. It was a hollow excuse. It was Danny who broke the awkward pause between them, "Want me to help you patch that up?"

Marie pulled her hand from her lips, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, and examined the damage. "No broken bones. Not deep enough to really need Medi-gel. You're right. We'll save it for when it counts. Look – have you slept at all?"

Danny shook his head. "Doubt I could, even if I wanted to."

"Try," Marie said gently. "I'll go check on the girls. Andre should get some sleep, too. No telling when the next deployment will be. And I'll get working on a story."

"Marie–"

"I don't know what the angle will be. But, the mercs were supposed to be operating against the Reapers. Shepard made some deal with Aria T'Loak.  _Someone_ needs to know that there are rogue bands down here."

The fire in her eyes must have showed through the grief. Or, perhaps Danny was just pitying her. Either way, Marie's EP dropped his protest and headed down the hall. She walked in the opposite direction, toward where Andre and the girls were camped out in the cafeteria. All three were still awake.

While Danny was clearly pissed off, Andre's eyes held only sympathy and pain. "You okay?"

"I should be asking you that. You – it sounds like it got pretty bad here. Look, why don't you try and get some sleep? The three of you. I'll stand watch."

"Marie–"

"Please," she begged.  _Let me do something._ "You're probably going to head out in a few hours, to do god knows what in the city. We can hardly afford to stop our recon missions now. I'm not having you die because you're sleep deprived."

Andre nodded and held his hands out to Priya. "Come here, little one. Auntie Marie's right. We need to sleep."

Priya shook her head. "I don't need to fight. You sleep."

Marie and Andre shared a look at her grim assessment. Marie knelt down next to Priya and put a hand on the child's shoulder. "We don't need you to keep watch right now, love," she said. "There's lots of soldiers awake."

"That's what Andre always said. He said the soldiers would protect us while we slept," Priya said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Marie felt her throat tighten and swallowed painfully against the lump forming there. "Sweetie, let us worry about guard duty. You need your sleep. We don't know when – you were so brave last night, Pree. We might need you to be brave again, soon. That's much easier if you're not tired."

The child studied Marie with pursed lips.  _Something_ must have convinced her, because she threw her arms around Marie in a quick hug. Before Marie could respond, Priya was already pulling away and taking Andre's hand. He rested his fingers lightly against Marie's hair for a moment in thanks before leading the child away. Marie stayed on the ground for a moment, even as the pain sank into her knees. Now that she was down, getting up and continuing to move forward sounded impossible.

It was only the sight of Alba, curled in a ball under one of the cafeteria tables, that managed to keep Marie from falling into a dark hole. Marie stood and closed the distance between them before kneeling to get under the table. Alba did not stir, keeping her head tucked into her carapace. After talking to Priya, a seven year old wanting to keep watch and protect everyone from the monsters of their ending world, Marie found herself on the verge of tears. Looking at Alba, a couple spilled over. Normally, Marie would have hastily wiped them away. Tears seldom won one credit or respect in journalistic or military circles. Now, though, Marie refused. Instead, she sang in a throaty whisper.

The words were from the Turian common tongue, and Marie knew her pronunciation was atrocious. But, she roughly knew their meaning.

_Spirits of this place, Spirits of this family,_

_Guide us, make us strong in our day of mourning._

_Spirits of this place, Spirits of this family,_

_Guide him beyond to a place of peace._

_A great soldier's gone, the wake behind him empty,_

_So guide us, make us strong as we remember._

_Guide us, make us strong as our soldier was._

Marie vividly remembered singing that song once, almost a decade ago, beside Sera. Her asari girlfriend and first love lost her turian father, a general in the Turian military. He was a hundred and fifty one years old and died in his sleep, when Sera had not seen him in close to an Earth year. Marie went to the funeral, and Sera had gripped tightly at her hand the entire day. It was Marie's first and last time on Palaven. No matter how beautiful the military service was, she had never been able to return. Sera's guilt painted the entire place with a painful brush. Now, though, the strange sound of a turian choir ringing in Marie's ears did not make her unbearably depressed. She focused instead on the beauty, on the peace Sera seemed to find in their words.

Alba untucked her head from her carapace and looked at Marie with an unreadable expression. "His name was Harry," she said. "He almost never talked, but–"

She broke off, apparently unable to find the words. Marie suggested, "But he was your friend, and he was very brave. The two of you never would have made it here if he wasn't. I know it's hard, but he would want you to be strong. He would want you to push forward, survive, and make it out the other side of this."

Alba nodded. "I know. But right now, I don't think I can."

"You survived out there, without an adult to take care of you," Marie insisted. "You can do anything. But, it will take time. Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No. I – Marie, thank you. But, I want to be alone right now."

Marie was struck by the high-pitched composure in the twelve-year-old's voice. She was not entirely convinced it was genuine. But, she remembered back to Sera's father's funeral. Back then, Sera had needed some space. When Marie refused to give it, her girlfriend had turned painfully hostile. Marie decided not to make the same mistake here. She brushed her fingers lightly against the back of Alba's hand and nodded, pulling out from under the table. Marie stood and locked eyes with a woman, a resistance fighter, a couple feet away. There was an unspoken agreement in their shared look. The other woman would look after Alba. She nodded firmly and turned away, and Marie was startled by just how young the blonde looked. She could not be older than eighteen or nineteen.

This war was being fought by more children every day, as the old soldiers trying to protect them perished. The thought really did threaten to cause a break down, so Marie hurried out into the hall. There was a small room at the end, some kind of counselor's office. She walked in and shut the door, finding a sob coming to her lips as she clamped a hand down over mouth. Now was not the time. She desperately pulled up her Omni-tool, practically praying that James was online.

_[M: You there?]_

_[J: What's wrong?]_

Marie almost laughed. The fact that James could tell she was hurting, just from the two toneless words she used to open a conversation, spoke volumes about how far they had come.

_[M: Last night was bad.]_

_[J: Nightmares bad or husks bad?]_

_[M: Mercs raiding the camp and killing thirteen people bad.]_

_[J: Are you hurt?]_

_[M: No.]_

Marie swallowed at the lump in her throat. She needed to talk to him about this.

_[M: Remember how I told you we found a boy? A human with a turian girl? They shot him. He's gone. I saw it happen.]_

There was a long pause at the other end. Marie started to worry at how long James was taking, before his next message came through.

_[J: I wish I was there. I would give you a hug. Tell you everything was going to be okay. Tell you it wasn't your fault. Tell you I was there for you.]_

_[J: I hate not being able to say that.]_

_[M: You are here for me. More than you know.]_

* * *

**6 September 2186 || 08:00 GST || S.S.V. Normandy**

James finished typing and hit send. He felt nauseous, having written everything down. But, the story about Sanctuary needed to get out. Sure, the Alliance was warning people. And Miranda Lawson's message was being broadcast across the system. And Allers was going to run a story. But this kind of thing, this kind of exploitation, Marie  _knew_ how to cover that. Before the war, it was what she was known for.

More importantly and selfishly, James needed someone to talk to about the atrocities they had seen down there.

It was a full hour before Marie replied. She had been listed as away, so James did not worry  _too_ much, but he still worked anxiously on a modification for his shotgun down in the shuttle bay. He kept having to redo one of the welds on his new blade, as his hands kept shaking.

_[M: I've been sitting here for five minutes trying to find words that can adequately describe what I'm feeling right now. I don't think they exist.]_

_[M: Are you okay?]_

_[J: They were turning refugees into husks. So no.]_

_[J: The only consolation is that we know where the Illusive Man is. We're preparing a full on assault.]_

James realized what that really meant. Shepard made it abundantly clear in her debriefing. Once they found that Prothean virtual intelligence, it would be time to activate the Crucible, before the Reapers knew what they were up to. This was the beginning of the end, one way or another.

_[J: You should know … Cerberus has some intel. Something that could help us destroy the Reapers. Can't say more than that. But, if we do this right, it could be over soon.]_

_[M: I know about the Crucible. We're already being briefed down here.]_

James raised an eyebrow. He had  _very_ explicit instructions not to talk about the Crucible with Marie. He was not left to wonder what changed for very long.

_[M: Once the Reapers realize what you're up to, they'll probably kick into high gear. The Alliance is expecting a full-on assault. Ha. As if this isn't already one. Kind of a scary idea. Whatever. We're getting ready.]_

_[M: Cerberus knows something that can help finish the Crucible, though? And, no, this isn't the reporter asking.]_

Well, what the hell? James figured there was no harm that could come of telling her now.

_[J: Yeah. They stole some data on Thessia. We're going to get it back.]_

_[M: That's why you were so distraught.]_

_[M: Shit. That sounds bad. I just mean it only made what happened there worse.]_

_[J: I know. It's okay. And I'm sorry I was so short with you.]_

_[M: It's okay. You're allowed to grieve, James.]_

_[J: You should remember your own advice, sometime.]_

_[J: How are you doing?]_

_[M: Honestly? I'm scared. With everything that's happened … Thessia, the merc attack, and now we might actually be getting ready to end this war. It's too much to process, but … Anderson's preparing for one hell of a fight. And that's genuinely terrifying.]_

_[M: Do you think we actually have a shot at this?]_

James leaned against the weapons bench, his palms pressing into the cool surface of the table. He had no idea how to answer that question. The odds were long. There was no doubt about that. They had to recover the Prothean V.I. from Cerberus, hope that it actually knew what the Catalyst was, and then find the last piece of the Crucible. Then they had to hope that the ancient weapon actually worked. And pray that they activated it before everyone was already dead.

But, Shepard was on the task. If there was anyone in the galaxy who could do this, it was her. It was the best shot they  _could_ have, as a galaxy. That was all James or anyone else could hope for.

_[J: Yes. Honestly. I don't know what our odds actually are, but this could work.]_

_[M: I'm holding you to that. You and me have a lot of catching up to do, after all. I'm not dying without getting to see you in person.]_

_[J: And I'm holding you to that.]_

James hit send and felt a wave of nausea. He was not scared about the mission ahead. Well, he was. The stakes were certainly high. They were probably the highest the Normandy's crew had ever faced. But, he could handle the stress of an upcoming mission.

He was scared for  _her._ Anderson was right. Once the Reapers got wind of what Shepard was up to, the attacks on Earth would surely intensify. And there was no way of knowing how long the Crucible would take to complete. Marie was in more danger now than ever. And  _that_ thought terrified James.

Almost as terrifying was the realization that hit him, staring down at his empty inbox. He was in love with Marie. Somehow, with just two video chats and a whole lot of texting, he had fallen hard for her. She was intimidatingly intelligent, incredibly brave, and surprisingly funny. And, above all, she was one of the most compassionate people he had ever met. Sure, she was stubborn and hotheaded, but even that was a little bit sexy. She was not afraid to push him, from day one. She was naturally curious, enthralled with the world. James had never met anyone quite like her, and the thought of losing her before he really had a chance to know her – to hold her, to date her, to spend time with her – was almost unbearable.

He thought about telling her, but that was the kind of thing one really had to say in person. James hoped he would get the chance. Maybe Shepard would let him commandeer the vidcomm after they hit the Cerberus base. Trying to do it now would seem like he was giving up, assuming they would not survive the attack. And James did not believe that. He would not believe that.


	15. The Final Battle, Part I

**7 September 2186 || 09:00 BST ||St. Mary Cray, England, Earth**

Marie awoke to a disorienting flurry of activity. She looked over to Andre, holding Priya as he was roused. The child, however, was quite a sound sleeper. Andre moved out carefully from under Priya and shared a concerned look with Marie. It was Danny that entered the sleeping quarters a moment later and filled them in, keeping his voice to a whisper.

"The Citadel's just been brought to Earth."

Every detail Danny provided from Anderson's debriefing was more fantastical and horrific than the last. He told them about the true nature of the Catalyst. He told them about Cerberus's involvement, and Marie felt relief wash over her as she realized James's mission had been successful. Danny then told them of the Alliance's plan to get a team up to the Citadel. But, in a hushed and horrified whisper, he also revealed some of the worst details of the situation.

Marie did not know what to feel as the full weight of last night's events sank in. There was despair, knowing that everyone on the Citadel was probably dead. There was nausea at the reports of the Reaper's increased rate of execution. They were sending people up to the Citadel to be  _processed._ Just the word alone made her want to vomit.

But, there was also hope. They had a weapon. A completed weapon that no other cycle before them had. If this insane plan actually worked, if they could secure the catalyst, then the galaxy might actually be able to end this horrific war.

Marie realized now, as a solution presented itself, that she never truly expected them to survive. For millions of years, no species or galactic coalition had been able to defeat the Reapers. It seemed almost arrogant to assume they would be any different. She had been assuming they would fail. She had been assuming they would die horrifically.

Now, Marie faced the incredible possibility that assumption was wrong.

She watched Andre tilt his head, apparently listening to someone over his in-ear communication line. "Anderson's calling everyone together. Sounds like they've got orders."

"That was fast," Danny remarked.

Andre shrugged and raked his fingers through his tangled curls. He quickly pulled on his boots and jogged out the door, following the frantic activity down the hall. Marie felt a sinking feeling in her gut as she watched him go. Whatever the Alliance – or, rather, the entire intergalactic fleet – was planning would involve  _everyone._ Anderson had told Danny and the others that they needed to regain control of the Citadel, and that would be no easy task.

Marie looked over to see that Alba had awoken. She extended her arms to the turian child, and Alba crawled into Marie's lap. After her makeshift funeral service a few days ago, Alba had come to trust Marie. The turian followed her like a shadow, the same way Priya followed Andre. Marie rested her chin atop Alba's fringe as the child pressed her forehead to Marie's collarbone.

"Are they really going to stop the Reapers?" Alba asked quietly, her question tainted with more doubt than hope.

"Yes," Marie insisted, realizing how foolish it was that she  _actually_ believed that. James's unadulterated enthusiasm seemed to be rubbing off.

She pulled up her Omni-tool, still holding Alba close with her other arm, and frowned. The Q.E.C. link was still active, but Marie was blocked from the network. There was a message in her inbox.

_[DEFCON ALPHA DECLARED. ALL NON-ESSENTIAL COMMUNICATIONS BANNED FROM HIGH PRIORITY CHANNELS.]_

DEFCON ALPHA. It was a state of defense readiness never before used. Even throughout the war, the Alliance was always officially at DEFCON 1. Before the Reapers, the system was designed for international nuclear war. Marie supposed a new level made sense. Nuclear war was child's play compared to the scale of devastation happening now, and she realized Anderson and James had to be right. One way or another,  _this_ was the real end to the war.

If they succeeded, the Reapers would be kicked back to whatever hell spawned them. If not, even if the extermination waged on for centuries more, they were all as good as gone.

But, once Marie had reasoned through her confusion, panic set in. She wanted desperately to talk to James. Now it sounded as if she would not get the chance until this final push was finished. Marie felt the surge of adrenaline and nausea go through her like a shock. What if this was goodbye? She never got to say goodbye.

* * *

**8 September 2186 || 15:00 BST ||St. Mary Cray, England, Earth**

"I'm going with you," Marie insisted again.

"Like hell you are," Anderson growled, apparently growing impatient.

"One way or another, this is the end of the war. At least, it is for Earth, and I'm–"

Anderson rounded on her. "You don't know that, Rai Mercier. And if we fail, someone has to take care of that kid behind you." Marie looked back, and it look all her energy not to wince under Priya's gaze.  _Shit. That's not fair. You can't just guilt trip me in front of the kid._ Anderson continued, "It's going to be way too hot in the city. We're about to lose a lot of good men in this push. You're not going to be among them. Is that clear?"

Marie looked down at her boots. She had armored up, partially in the hope that seeing her battle-ready would change Anderson's mind.

"Yes, sir," she said quietly. Then, Marie looked up, hoping her gaze came across as defiant as she added, "But, you had better come back. Because I'm expecting one hell of an exclusive after you've taken down the Reapers."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Damn it. It was hard to be mad at him when his eyes were so fucking warm and paternal. Anderson extended a hand to her, and Marie grabbed it.

"Oh, don't pull that shit with me," she chided, pulling the admiral into a hug. Her insubordination seemed to shock him, until he remembered that she was not  _actually_ under his command. Anderson hugged her back tightly, and she released him after a couple of seconds. She kept hold of his hand and looked him in the eyes. "Take care of my boys."

Marie pulled away and turned to find Andre at her side. "Guess this is it, huh?"

"It's not goodbye," Marie insisted.

"Mar–"

"No," she cut him off. "You go out there. You fight. You make sure this war is won on Earth."

He grabbed her shoulders and brought his forehead to hers. Marie could smell mint on his breath, and she almost laughed at the fact that he was chewing gum. Where the hell had he gotten it?

"I'm not a soldier, Marie. Let's just be adults here. We both know my odds aren't good."

"No, we don't both know that," she said, her arms still hanging lamely down at her sides. "Because, if your odds were as bad as you apparently think, you should have died a dozen missions ago. Yet, somehow, you – the fucking barista – you keep coming back to me. So you had better do it again. One last time. You hear me? I'm not saying goodbye."

Andre pulled away, and Marie was glad to see him smiling. "Stubborn to the end, huh?"

"Not the end," she corrected. "But, yeah. That's never gonna change."

"Okay. Can I at least have a not-goodbye hug for good luck?"

She pulled him into an embrace and could feel the sob rising in her throat. No matter what Marie said, the rational part of her knew how right Andre was. It almost made her angry. Unable to bring themselves to let go, Marie and Andre stood locked together for a long time. It was only when a marine – the Vanguard, Huang – clasped Andre's shoulder that he released his old friend. Marie and Huang shared a look that seemed to say "goodbye" and "good luck" at the same time. And when Marie turned to Andre, possibly for the last time, she found herself at a rare loss for words.

"Keep them safe," he told her.

"I will. I promise," she said, still grabbing at his arms, feeling the texture of his armor beneath her fingers. She found herself trying to memorize the feeling and the look on his face, her mind preparing to say goodbye before Marie consciously made the decision to let go. "And you'd better come back for them,  _soldier._ I'll be waiting for you."

"Someone's gotta make your coffee, right?"

She smiled and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "Damn straight. Now go kick some Reaper ass."

* * *

**8 September 2186 || 15:20 BST ||London, Earth**

James watched the rubble of London fly by on the Kodiak's external cameras. Major Alenko was right. It did not look like home anymore. If anything, Earth looked like most of Tuchanka, nothing but broken buildings and dust. Worse still, it was absolutely overrun by Reaper forces.

How the hell had Marie survived Earth?

Steve called out that they were approaching the drop zone. The team readied themselves by the door and waited in anxious silence. Then, the Kodiak's door opened, and all hell broke loose. Outside was a Reaper army more numerous than any James had seen before. Shepard began shooting before her boots hit the ground, and she was soon rocketing between Cannibals with her biotic charge. The tactic was once terrifying – James was worried that he would accidently shoot Shepard if she got between him and an enemy – but he knew better now. Shepard knew was she was doing. So James turned his attention from her, to a Cannibal caught up in Kaidan's reave energy, and took it down with one round from his shotgun.

They battled through the heavy forces methodically, none of them even getting their shields taken down. The past eleven weeks had apparently been a training exercise for this push. Each of them knew just how to take down every enemy, just which power and ammo to deploy, just which body part to hit. James could feel the adrenaline rush as Shepard took out the last Cannibal with a biotic-fueled punch to the face.

He let out a low whistle as they surveyed the landscape. " _Dios mío,_ Lola."

"Like what you see there, Vega?"

"It's a shame we're both spoken for," he called back. "Because that was  _hot._ "

"Guys? I'm right here," Kaidan said. "Literally right here."

Shepard chuckled and waved them over to a collapsed section of highway, now acting as a ramp up to where the other shuttle had crashed.

"Jealous, Major?" James taunted. "Relax, I'm not about to get kicked out for something as stupid as fraternization. Although it  _might_ be worth it."

Shepard started to stay something, but Steve interrupted over the communication line, "Damn it. You've got airborne hostiles inbound. Gonna try to keep 'em off you."

"Careful, Cortez," Shepard told him, as they heard the Kodiak coming in from behind.

The Harvester flying by took a shot at the Kodiak, and the back of the shuttle erupted in a fireball. James stopped in his tracks, his breath hitching in his throat.  _Come on, Esteban. Pull up, you son of a bitch._

"Cortez!" Shepard shouted out, as they saw the Kodiak go down.

"I'm alright!" Steve called out, and James sighed with relief.  _Stupid pendejo._ "But I won't be picking you up. I've gotta land this bird quick."

"Get safe," Shepard told him.

"Anything for you," Steve said.

"Stop being a kiss ass, Esteban," James called out with a strangled laugh.

"That's rich, coming from you," Steve shot back.

"He's got you there, Vega" Shepard said. "Come on, let's get to those heavy weapons and take out that damn A.A. gun."

There was another hard-fought but achievable battle up ahead. Again, James watched Shepard destroy the armor of a Cannibal with her SMG before going in for a fatal charge. He launched a fragmentation grenade in the direction of a couple of Marauders and a Cannibal, just as Kaidan took down one of the Marauder's shields with an Overload burst. Shepard jumped in to finish off the other Marauder, and they kept fighting on like that, a true team. James almost hated to admit it, but he was enjoying the battle. It was a careful, well-performed dance.

They finished taking out the ground force, and Shepard grabbed the Cain. James had never seen one of the mobile nuclear weapons before, and it was a damn beautiful sight, especially as it took down the anti-aircraft gun. James raised his fist in the air triumphantly before slapping Shepard on the back.

"Alright. Let's get the hell out of here before reinforcements arrive," he said.

The squad made for an extraction point, but not before a Banshee came over the side of the platform they were standing on.

"Not this again!" Shepard called out. "Keep those Cannibals off me while I take this bitch down!"

"By yourself? Are you  _loco_?"

"Just do it, Vega!"

James let out a frustrated yell. "Alright, let's do this you sons of bitches!"

He teamed up with Kaidan to take out each Cannibal that got too close to Shepard, doing his best not to check up on her every ten seconds. Every time the squad had taken on a Banshee, they had been able to concentrate fire. They also had a hell of a lot more breathing room. Shepard, by herself, with all the half-walls blocking easy movement, was at a severe tactical disadvantage. But, James kept fighting. The only way to have Shepard's six now was to get rid of those damn armored bastards.

He was shocked to look over a minute later and see that Shepard had finished off the Banshee. By herself.

"Holy shit, Lola!" he called out. "Now, you mind giving us a hand here?"

"It's just take, take, take with you," she mock-complained, charging into a Cannibal James had just set on fire.

"Do you two take anything seriously?" Kaidan laughed.

"Nah, not really, L2," James said, bringing the barrel of his shotgun almost flush against the head of a Cannibal and pulling the trigger.

"Yeah, a battle to save the galaxy? Why would we take that seriously?" Shepard quipped.

Their extraction shuttle arrived just as more Cannibals appeared from  _wherever_ they were spawning. James jumped aboard last, firing a final shot right at the heart of a mutilated Batarian. As the door closed and Shepard talked to an Alliance marine, James was shocked to hear a familiar voice.

Anderson was in the shuttle that picked them up, and he greeted Shepard as an old friend. He and James shared a little nod, and James bit back his desire to ask about Marie. Now was decidedly not the time. He tried to listen intently as Anderson described their situation and praised Shepard for her work uniting the damn galaxy. Anderson gave the fleet of shuttles, codename Hammer, the all clear to move in for the attack. James braced himself. Phase two was just about to begin.

It felt strange, in the middle of the assault, to be heading for a base of operations instead of the battlefield. Then again, they were carrying the leader of the Resistance forces. Anderson was supposed to stay out of the fight itself, although James suspected the admiral would find his way into the fray before the day was out. He was a marine, through and through, never really keen on being a proper officer. It was why James liked him so much.

So, the Kodiak landed instead in the middle of a half-destroyed office building in downtown London. Now that James had a moment to breathe, he got a good luck at what was left of the city. There was no other word for it than depressing. He had never been to London in its prime, but the city now was a shell. The Reapers destroyed everything and everyone.

_No, not everyone._

James looked around for Anderson, wondering where the admiral had gotten to. He  _had_ to ask about Marie, before it was too late. He jogged down the street and saw Shepard talking to Justicar Samara over a video communication unit in a building off the main street. Well, if  _she_ was allowed to make personal calls, James figured it did not hurt to ask. He waited outside for Shepard to finish, and she gave James a knowing look as they passed.

"Tell the girlfriend I say hello," she said, grabbing briefly onto James's shoulder. There was a melancholy meaning in her gesture. Shepard was saying her goodbyes, and she knew James was about to do the same. He nodded resolutely at the Commander and asked the communications specialist to connect him to Marie Rai Mercier.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but that contact's offline. Is there anyone else I can connect you to?"

"Offline? What does that mean? She's got Alliance clearance. She's hooked into the Alliance's communication network."

"Rai Mercier is logged as going offline at 09:00 yesterday," the specialist said. His tone was professional but not unkind. "All non-essential personnel were logged out of the system to allow coordination of the attack. If she's still offline, it probably just means she's out of range of a communication buoy. All civilians have been relocated to isolated areas."

James felt the panic seeping into his chest, but he did not let himself dwell on the other possibility. Surely, it was just as the specialist said. She was somewhere safe, in the middle of a damn forest or pasture. Maybe it was even sunny and smoke-free, wherever she was. Still, with a quick "thanks" over his shoulder, James went off to search for Anderson in earnest.

* * *

**8 September 2186 || 15:40 BST ||St. Mary Cray, England, Earth**

"How much further you think we've got to go, boss?" Danny asked, climbing over a particularly gnarly fallen oak tree. "Watch your footing here. It's a bit slippery."

"Thanks," Marie said, helping Alba over. "And we don't stop. We just get as far away from the city as we can."

The normally quiet forest was exploding with the sounds of the fight happening downtown. There was an air battle overhead and a large explosion from the city every couple of minutes. Marie saw Priya, wrapped around Danny's back, grab on tighter as a fighter jet exploded not too far away. Marie refused to let herself dwell on how many lives were being lost a minute or whether her boys were still alive.

"We're going to need to stop and take a short break soon, then," Danny said. "Keep everyone's energy up."

"Agreed. There's a river up ahead. We can rest there and refill our canteens."

They made for the river, and Marie could hear Priya still humming the Hindi lullaby Marie sang in the forest a week ago. Much to Marie's surprise, Priya had asked for the song every night before bed since the attack on the base. Marie would have assumed the song brought up bad memories for the child, but it seemed to comfort her instead. Marie wondered if Priya's own parents used to sing to her, but she had not been able to bring herself to ask.

When they reached the river, Marie told the girls to take ten minutes to eat some dried fruit Anderson had given them. She kept watch, assault rifle drawn, as Danny pulled a filtering apparatus out of his backpack and began filling the canteens.

"You doing okay?" he asked quietly, trying to keep their conversation out of earshot of the girls.

"I wish I knew what was happening. I wish I knew if it was going well. I mean, it doesn't seem like–"

"You don't know that," Danny interrupted.

"That's the part that sucks," she said bitterly. "And you? Are you okay?"

"I wish we were there, too," he said. "But, Anderson's right. It's way too hot. And someone has to take care of them. We're all they've got."

Marie swallowed hard and nodded. "I'm not going to lie to you, Danny-boy, I'm freaking terrified."

"I'd wager that's the appropriate reaction," he said. "But there's that old line about fear keeping you alive. I've seen you shoot. You're not bad. A hell of a lot better than me. Stay alert, and we'll make it to the other side of this."

"That's assuming this insane plan to get up to the Citadel even works," she whispered.

"Have a little faith, Marie."

"I'm a journalist, Danny. Cynicism's in my blood," she sighed.

"Yeah," Danny mused, "but now's not the time to feel defeated. We need you on your A-game. I need you. I've never really had a chance to tell you, but you've kept me alive the last month. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let that stop now."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Working with you, it gave me a reason to keep going. To run faster from every Husk. To shoot that merc last week," Danny explained. "You're a damn good friend and an even better boss. A fantastic journalist. And the way you've pushed through the past few weeks has been nothing short of incredible. So you have to keep going. You have to keep fighting, for both of us. For all of us."

"You talk like I'm some kind of hero," Marie complained. "I'm not–"

"Bullshit," he said, capping off the last canteen. "There are plenty of ways to be heroic. The way you took care of me, at the beginning. The way you take care of Priya and Alba. The way you fight this war in his own way. Fine, you're not a soldier. And, yeah, sometimes you can be a real selfish pain in the ass. But that doesn't change things."

Marie could feel herself blushing as a warmth spread through her chest. "Fine. I'll accept your misplaced praise. For now. But know that I'm not the only one here who deserves it. You've been fighting beside me and caring for strangers the whole way. Hell, I at least had  _some_ experience with shit like this. You were a blogger. To see what you've become now. Well, hell, I'm kind of proud of my EP."

"Yeah, I'm awesome like that," he said with a wide grin, as Marie helped him to his feet. "But, we should both probably shut up. This is sounding too much like a goodbye. Now let's–"

Marie heard a snap of a twig over the narrow, shallow river, and she turned with her rifle drawn to face it. There was more rustling in the branches, and then three husks emerged on the other bank.

"Shit! Run!" she yelled, pulling on the backpack Danny left at her feet and following after him.

Marie fired at the Husks, taking down one with a good couple of shots to the face, but her gunfire proved to be a mistake. Two more came out of the woods on her left flank. Danny shot at them with his pistol, yelling at the girls to move forward. Marie turned back to the two more husks across the bank, now being joined by a damn Cannibal. She felt a surge of adrenaline and turned away, running full force toward Danny and the girls.

"Just go! We've got to outrun them!" she shouted.

* * *

**8 September 2186 || 16:30 BST || London, Earth**

"Admiral! You got a minute?"

James jogged into the makeshift command center, where most of the crew was already assembled. Anderson looked up from his holographic display, and his gaze fell knowingly on James. There was nothing particularly foreboding about his look or stance, but James still felt uneasy. The admiral walked over at a clip and placed a hand on Vega's shoulder.

"She's fine, Lieutenant," Anderson said. "She's far away from all this mess."

"Why doesn't she have any comm equipment?" James demanded. He did not mean to sound so hostile, but he had been counting on at least being able to  _text_ Marie before the final push began in earnest.

"We have a limited supply. We had more mobile buoys en route, but the shuttle carrying them to our base of operations outside the city got shot down a couple days ago. We had to bring everything we had to the fight," Anderson explained. "I'm sorry, son–"

"So she's out there, totally cut off? What unit's she with?"

"I told you, she's out of the fight," Anderson said.

"You don't mean – she's  _by herself_?" James gasped, shrugging out from under Anderson's reassuring gesture.

"She's with three other civilians," Anderson said. "Daniel Jones, Priya, and Alba. I didn't have the manpower – Vega, she's far away from any trouble, I promise. And they're well-armed."

"That's not exactly reassuring. I can't believe you–"

"Will you just listen to me son?" Anderson said forcefully, pulling up his Omni-tool. "She gave this to me, to forward on to you. I'm sorry, but it's the best I can do."

Anderson saluted James, and he was forced to return the gesture before turning to his own Omni-tool. There was a new video in his imported files.  _Shit, Mar._ He thought about not opening it. Hell, she was probably saying goodbye, and that was the last thing James wanted to hear Marie say. But, he could not help himself. James opened the file.

"Hey, you," Marie said softly. Her hair was left down, thick curls cascading over her shoulders, and her eyes were kind. He could tell she was trying very hard to look happy and reassuring, but the act was faltering. "I guess – I was hoping I would get to see you before this all went down. Actually see you, in person, you know? But, I'd probably just get killed on my way into the city. Wouldn't do anyone much good.

"So, I'm gonna make Anderson get this to you. He can tease me about it or something later. I don't have time to record one for Steve, probably. Tell him – tell him good luck. Um, damn it. I'm stalling, and they're getting ready to leave."

She ran her hands in a frustrated, tense way through her hair. "Look – James – I'm not going to say goodbye. Because you're going to do this. You're gonna pull it off. Hell, after everything that's happened – I have to believe that we can do this. In our darkest hours, we've come together as a galaxy the way no cycle has before us. If anyone has a shot at this, it's us. It's you. So, this isn't goodbye. You're going to get to the Citadel and destroy the Reapers. And we'll live happily fucking after, okay?"

Marie laughed and wiped at her eyes. "Damn it. Okay, I really have to wrap this up. And so, I'm just going to say it. It's stupid, but, I'm in love with you. And you'd better come back. Because I want to see your face when I tell you that in person. I want to steal the kiss I should have, that night at the bar. So, you survive this, you hear? You survive, and you win this war. I'll never forgive you if you don't."

She looked off screen with a pained expression. "Yeah, I'm coming." Then, the vid cut out. James rewound it just a few seconds, to see her face when she was talking about stealing a kiss. There was a mischievous spark in her eye that told James she intended to steal a whole lot more than that.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I keep my promises. You just keep yours."


End file.
